


Can't Go Home Again

by nerdgirlwalking



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, I live in AU land now, They knew each other in High School, it's nice, yeah I dont know why my brain does these things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-20 00:38:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7384000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdgirlwalking/pseuds/nerdgirlwalking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Root gets a bit of a shock when Team Machine receives the number of a dead woman from her past. Research gives Sameen Shaw and Michael Cole their strangest number yet, GPS coordinates for Bishop High School and it's reunion weekend. How do you protect a number who is working a number? What are the odds someone gets shot before the weekend is over for trying to tell Shaw about their child the honor student?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Numbers

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are again. And it’s not even a fix it fic! I had an extremely random dream the other night about these two super powered nutballs being stuck in a cliché high school reunion/girl that got away scenario and my brain would not let it go (Even though I was in the middle of two other projects… Damn brain be more like Elsa!). But of course since it’s Root and Shaw there will be secret missions, explosions, BANTER, dead bad guys, and innuendo.  
> So housekeeping: No Samaritan. Timeline is obviously wonky. Root still got the keys to the clubhouse even though events happened much differently. Carter is alive just because I can. Harold has to stay home and mind the store, BECAUSE FUCK YOU AND YOUR FUCKING GLASSES HAROLD (hashtag salty for life!)!

 

“Harry there’s something wrong with her.”

 

“Ms. Groves calm down.” As soon as he stepped foot inside the library, she had accosted him rambling about The Machine glitching.  For a brief moment he feared she had fallen back in to her more unhinged ways. There was that much mania to her flailing.

 

“No,” She stressed. Her tone was anxious. Whatever was going on, her concern was genuine. “There’s something wrong and we need to figure out how to fix it.”

 

“Just take a breath and start from the beginning.”

 

Root stilled. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and breathed deeply. Things must have felt very desperate indeed for her to actually follow his suggestion. Finch adjusted his glasses. “Oh dear,” He muttered lowly to himself.

 

“Well, I was doing a bit of light coding,” She began to explain. This time her voice was far more even. A measure of progress in the very least. “I was trying to debug that expanded facial recognition package.”

 

“At my work station, which I have repeatedly asked you not to do.”

 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “As much as I appreciate the fact that my cell was converted into my work room there’s no windows down there. A gal occasionally needs to see the sun, Harry.”

 

“Normal people go for a walk in the park, Root.” John Reese said as he walked in carrying a cardboard drink carrier.

 

“Morning, Lurch,” She greeted.

 

“Ms. Groves,” Finch scolded her for the nickname.

 

“What? We’ve come to an understanding.” As evidenced by the fact that Reese handed her a jumbo-sized cup of coffee, right after giving Finch a much smaller paper cup of green tea.

 

“Your understanding with Mr. Reese can wait for later. You were in the middle of explaining your issue with The Machine.” He wanted to get to the bottom of whatever was causing her ire as quickly as possible.

 

“It’s her issue.” She stressed the her.

 

He rolled his eyes skyward and puffed out a frustrated breath, “Again if you’d simply explain.”

 

“That’s what I was doing before you got all territorial about your windows,” Root petulantly countered.

 

“Just go on,” He sighed as he took a seat at his workstation, careful to place his cup of tea well away from his equipment. Bear came to rest by his feet. He gave the dog a gentle pat between the ears. At least someone around here had kept their cool head.

 

“As I was saying,” Root continued, “I was coding when the phone rang. I picked up and she gave us two numbers.”

 

“That’s not unusual,” Reese interrupted her, “The Machine once gave us ten.”

 

“It wasn’t the amount. It was one of the numbers.” Root shook her head and leaned across Finch to begin typing on his keyboard with her free hand. She was so close he could feel the heat from her cup of coffee on the nape of his neck.

 

“Ms. Groves, honestly.” Root, undaunted by his scolding tone, merely kept typing. A file photo of a beautiful dark haired woman came up on screen. “Sameen Shaw,” Finch read aloud as her basic statistics appeared as well. “I take it she is one of the numbers?”

 

“Yes,” Root pointed at the screen as if it offended her, “She’s the problem.”

 

“What do you mean?” His eyes scanned the woman’s information. Everything appeared to be normal. American citizen. College, medical school. Exemplary test scores. Military service. Commendations for valor. There didn’t seem to be any current information on her employment or address. Curious.

 

“The problem is,” Root began to type once again. The screen switched to the homepage of a small newspaper. The headline was from five years ago. The same woman, this time in a Marine Dress Uniform, was pictured. ‘ _Local hero killed in action_.’

 

Finch’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “Oh dear.”

 

Meanwhile in Chicago Sameen Shaw was wrapping up her day. She wiped her hands on a shop rag before activating her phone. When the line connected she began speaking, “Hey, it’s me. Tell Wilson the shutdown code is 1155287E.” Shaw glanced over her shoulder at the bloodied man hanging from a pipe in the center of the abandoned garage, “And that Mankowitz is no longer an issue.”

 

“Do I need to send in the cleaners?” Her partner Michael Cole asked. She could hear him typing in the background. She swore the guy would get a computer surgically implanted if he could.

 

Hands as clean as they’d get under the current circumstances, she tossed the rag into a trash can. “Nah, I’m going to torch the place on my way out.”

 

The typing stopped. “What’s with you and fires?”

 

“What’s with you and stupid questions?” Shaw snapped back.

 

“Someone’s grumpy,” He snorted. “What did the guy bleed out before you could work out all your frustrations?”

 

“I’m hungry,” She grumbled. “I missed dinner chasing his dumb ass across the city.” She could tell by the way the light was filtering in through the dirty windows that it was nearly time for breakfast.

 

“Ah, I should have recognized your hangry voice.”

 

He really should have. “You do hear it enough.”

 

“It haunts my nightmares.”

 

“Not that I want to hear about your pervy nocturnal fantasies,” She drawled, “But you’d miss me and my hangr if I weren’t around, Cole.” She also doubted any other operator would put up with him.

 

“Yeah, won’t get that chance anytime soon,” He replied. “We already have another number.”

 

That wasn’t surprising. The world was an ugly place and the numbers, their targets, never stopped coming. “No rest for the wicked.”

 

“Speak for yourself,” Cole huffed. “I could use a break for some fun in the sun.”

 

“Abu Dhabi wasn’t enough sun for you?” She dug around in a cabinet, grinning when she discovered a crowbar.

 

“Sitting in the middle of the desert, roasting under a tarp while waiting on a convoy to drive by so you could shoot a guy isn’t my idea of a good time.” He clicked his tongue, “Besides that was months ago.”

 

“Poor baby,” Shaw teased. “So what’s the new job?” If he had a number, then he should have dug up some background details by now.

 

“Actually, it’s sort of weird.”

 

“Weird how? On a scale of one to that drug dealer with the alligators.” She used the crowbar to pop the lid on a barrel of motor oil and then shoved it over. Its contents oozed across the concrete floor. That’d make for a nice patch of accelerant later.

 

“Not like alligator guy weird,” Cole chuckled. “It’s the number, it’s not a number. Well, there’s numbers involved but not like as we’re used to seeing them.”

 

“Can you explain in English instead of fortune cookie?” Mmm cookies. She saw a bakery on the corner last night. Shaw idly wondered what time it opened.

 

“The number Research sent wasn’t a social. It wasn’t any type of ID number.”

 

“Okay,” Shaw drawled. That was slightly odd. “What was it then?”

 

“Coordinates. Good news, I was able to GPS ping them exactly by satellite.” He sounded far too proud of himself for what essentially amounted to using google earth.

 

“And where did they lead?”

 

“A small town in Texas, Bishop. The high school to be exact.”

 

For once Shaw felt something bordering on trepidation. “Fuck me.”

 

Two days later Root was sitting in a private jet waiting to take off for Texas and her high school reunion. That’s right not only was their number a once dead woman, but she was a once dead woman that Samantha Groves went to high school with. “Little more than that,” She groaned to herself.

 

When she had attempted to convince Harold how imperative it was that she take on this particular number, once they figured out that The Machine didn’t have a glitch and that Sameen Shaw was indeed alive, she may have left out a few details. Of course she couldn’t avoid revealing that she knew the woman. The fact that Shaw had ties to Bishop was a matter of public record. Reese was well aware of Root’s particular connection to the city, having personally investigated her a little over two years ago. They would have put two and two together without her input. So she made sure they knew that Shaw was a known entity and that it would be in her best interest if Root handled this mission.

 

What Reese and Harry didn’t know was that Hanna Frey wasn’t little Sam Groves’ only friend. Her friendship and loss was indeed formative. She wouldn’t be the woman she was today without the mark Hanna left on her. But a few years later there was Shaw.

 

She remembered as clearly as if it were yesterday. A shadow falling over the pages of her Trigonometry textbook. Looking up to see a dark-haired girl glowering at her. “They’re making me sit here, don’t be annoying.” The beginnings of a beautiful friendship.

 

Shaw was beautiful and brilliant and hated people more than she did. Shaw, who for some reason didn’t let the idiot jocks pick on nerdy Sam Groves. Shaw could have had her choice of friends if she really wanted, but for some reason decided that Sam Groves was worth her time. She was one of the few people Root could say had ever been genuinely kind to her back then.

 

And now she was Root’s mission. Shaw who had apparently faked her death, but felt the need to come back to life just in time for reunion weekend. Just in time for her number to come up. Root didn’t have enough of the puzzle to even begin to figure out why. Needless to say, this job would be a challenge on several levels.

 

Root’s musings were interrupted as someone else entered the cabin. “What are you doing here Tarzan?” She drawled as Reese took the seat across from her.

 

“Backup,” Was his simple reply.

 

“I’ve been working without a safety net for a while now.”

 

“It’s not about needing a warden, Finch trusts you.”

 

Root snorted at that, “Harry doesn’t trust anyone.” Typically, for good reason. They had that in common.

 

“His version of trust,” Reese amended. “This is clearly personal. When things get personal, operatives tend to get sloppy.”

 

“Speaking from personal experience?” She snapped. To his credit, Reese didn’t rise to her bait.

 

“I really do not need a baby sitter,” Root shook her head. She’d taken on much more complex tasks all on her own just fine, thank you very much. Yes, the fact that she knew one of the numbers added a bit of complexity but she was fully capable of completing this mission. Frankly, she’d be damned before she failed this one. “And who will handle the irrelevant numbers that pop up if you’re not with Harry?”

 

“Joss and Lionel can handle things for a weekend.”

 

“You’re not going to get off my plane are you?” She sighed in exasperation.

 

He leaned back in his seat with a little grin. “Nope.”

 

Shaw was traveling under less plush conditions. She glared at the back of the seat in front of her. Before they had even left the terminal this jack ass was already reclining. Now well into the flight, he was snoring away no matter how hard she kicked the back of his seat. She was seriously contemplating requesting a pillow so she could do the world a favor and smother him with it.

 

“Okay so there couldn’t have been more than like fifty kids in your graduating class.” Cole tapped away on his laptop beside her. He’d pulled the damn thing out the minute the flight attendants gave them the go ahead to use electronic devices. “This should be easy.”

 

“Not so much,” Shaw grumbled. “It’s a joint reunion. Practically the entire town shows up.”

 

His hopeful expression crumpled. “Oh.”

 

“Yeah.” This was going to be hell. The small talk alone. And what if some of them expected her to look at pictures of their ugly ass kids? Shaw banged her head on the window.

 

“Well, this isn’t the first time that we’ve had to narrow things down on our own.” He perked up in the seat, “And we have an advantage this time.”

 

“Oh really? And what might that be?”

 

“You,” Cole smiled. “You know these people.”

 

“Yeah, and they all thought I was dead.” It was odd that Control had instructed her to travel under her own name. There were exceedingly good reasons for ISA agents not to have contact with people from their pasts. Her miraculous return from the dead was breaking a phonebook full of regulations. This entire mission seemed to be a giant ball of what the fuckery and they’d barely started.

 

“That will probably make them more willing to talk to you,” Cole shrugged. “They’ll be excited to catch up with a long lost friend.”

 

“I didn’t have friends.” Shaw rolled her eyes. Well, not friends plural. “I lived there for two years, well over a decade ago. I doubt anyone will even remember me.”

 

“Come on Shaw,” He grinned. “You know you make an impression. I bet you haven’t changed that much.”

 

She considered it. “I’m hotter than I was back then.”

 

“Okay,” He chuckled. “Any thoughts on who we could be looking for? Any bad apples we can start with?" He gave her a wry grin, “Most people don’t change that much.”

 

“Obviously they do if someone in Texas’ asshole has become a terrorist. Half the idiots in that town couldn’t even spell terrorist.” She scowled at him, “And what’s with the perky up with people act? It’s creepy.”

 

“I’m just trying to find a positive in this weird situation we’ve been dropped in.” Michael Cole, ever the annoying optimist.

 

“Oh okay, how about this positive? It’s Texas, when I march in there like the walking dead someone is going to shout zombie and shoot me.”

 

He screwed his face up in confusion, “Who brings a gun to a high school reunion?”

 

“Did you miss the part where it’s in Texas, Cole?”


	2. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our girls meet each other again for the first time.

 

“So there’s the cocktail hour tonight. Charity softball game tomorrow afternoon. BBQ and fireworks in the evening. Then brunch and the big dance Sunday night to cap everything off.” Root recited the weekend’s itinerary as Reese drove them to their hotel.

 

“These small town folks know how to extend a party.”

 

“It’s Bishop, they’re under the mistaken belief that life peaks in High School. The only thing bigger than Reunion Weekend is Homecoming in the fall.”

 

He guided the car off the freeway and into the town proper. Several newly constructed chain restaurants and shops were buzzing with customers. People were strolling down the sidewalks in between, smiling, laughing. “The town seems, livelier since I was here last.”

 

“They found natural gas deposits underneath one of the ranches. A couple energy firms swooped in. Town population doubled overnight,” Root explained. “Don’t knock it. Means we get to stay in a genuine Holiday Inn as opposed to the no-tell motel out on the old highway.”

 

Reese cringed as he remembered the place. He was trained to survive under any conditions but there was something to be said about a place without bed bugs. “This your first time back?”

 

Root looked at him like he had just asked the only stupid question in the entire world. “Why would I ever come back here without an impending murder to worry about?” She turned her head to look out the window, “Besides you know I haven’t been back.” He’d done his research back when they were adversaries.

 

“After your mother died,” He surmised. “Hanna was gone and this Shaw…”

 

“She left too.” Root’s lips ticked up in a wistful grin. She flipped open Shaw’s file on her tablet. “She was actually going places.”

 

“You liked her.” Damn why did he have to be intuitive today of all days?

 

She knew he wouldn’t let it go unless she gave him something. He was rather like Bear with a shoe in that regard. Root sighed, “She was different than anyone I had ever met. She saw me, even the bad bits, and she didn’t care.”

 

“How did you lose touch?”

 

“Like I said she was going places. Her trajectory was leading up and mine,” She took a breath. “There was already Trent. After that step, well you know where people like us end up.” Root tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I knew it even then.”

 

They came to a stop at a red light. He turned a bit in his seat to look at her, “I still think you’re insane...”

 

“Awe.”

 

“But you’re fighting the good fight these days. There are a lot of people walking around leading full lives now because of you.” He tapped Shaw’s picture on the screen of Root’s tablet. “Seems like the two of you have that in common.”

 

“You are such a softie under that gruff exterior,” Root chuckled. “It’s sort of disgusting.”

 

“This is why people don’t like sharing with you.” He turned back to face the road with a grunt.

 

“As I live and breathe, Sam Shaw,” A bespectacled woman at the registration table set up just outside of the high school gym, held a hand to her chest later that same evening. “I don’t know if you remember me. Paula Thompkins, well it was Jacobs back then. Though, I may go back now that I’m divorced actually...”

 

“Yeah,” Shaw tilted her head. “We had AP Chemistry together?” Jacobs sat in the front of the room. Raised her hand for every question. Only got them right half the time.

 

The woman nodded, “That’s it exactly.” She picked up a folder and a large Mylar bag with the Bishop High logo on it. “So here’s your schedule of events and of course your goodie bag. One of the art classes designed the t-shirts this year.”

 

“Great,” Shaw replied taking the bag from her hand.

 

“And here’s your nametag,” She held out an oversized sticker with SHAW scrawled on it in think black ink. At least they didn’t try to write Sameen. She took it and slapped it on to the left side of her chest. Shaw looked at Paula waiting to be told if there was anything else she needed to know. When the woman didn’t say anything she cleared her throat.

 

Paula kept staring. “I’m sorry. It’s just so nice to have you here. You probably don’t remember, but my brother was in the service too, so when we heard you had passed…” She trailed off.

 

“Your brother doing okay?” Shaw didn’t actually remember the guy, or care, but it seemed like what a normal person would ask under the circumstances. She was trying to somewhat blend in at the moment.

 

“Oh sure,” Paula smiled. “He’s probably in there holding up the bar.” She waved another woman to the table, “And of course you remember our Homecoming Queen, Bethany Andrews?”

 

Yeah, she was sort of a bitch. “Of course,” Shaw smiled and extended her hand, “Bethany how are you?” It was clear she still believed in the higher the hair the closer to god method of styling. Yikes, how much did she spend on hairspray in a year? The EPA should go after her for personal damage to the ozone layer.

 

“Oh just perfect,” Bethany replied as she briefly shook Shaw’s hand. Her hands were soft and her grip was feeble. “Scott and I got married. The whole High School sweethearts’ cliché. He’s the football coach over in Palo Alto.”

 

“How nice for you,” Shaw noted through her teeth.

 

“It is,” Bethany nodded. “We’re living the dream.” Did she seriously just say that? “But enough about me. I swear we were all so surprised when your registration came in at the last minute. We all thought it was a prank at first given, well…” She trailed off.

 

“I was supposed to be dead,” Shaw drawled. “Yes, I imagine it came as quite a shock.”

 

“But then your credit card information cleared.” Of course. Nothing confirms the validity of a statement quite like cash.

 

“So?” Paula asked.

 

“Oh you don’t want to hear the gory details,” Shaw waved her off. “Suffice it to say that I had a really bad trip, but I survived in the end.”

 

“And got rewarded by the service for valor. It’s truly impressive,” Bethany replied in a tone that indicated she found it anything but.

 

“Did they torture you?” Paula leaned across the table, “I watch Homeland. I know there’s all sorts of crazy shit that goes down over there. Brainwashing, mind control. Anyone try to convert you?”

 

“Excuse me?” Shaw wasn’t offended she just wanted to be sure she had actually heard the crazy that had fallen from her mouth correctly.

 

“Paula, we’re running low on gift bags,” Bethany snapped. “Go get more from the office.”

 

“Oh duty calls,” Paula smiled at Shaw. “It was so good to see you, Hon. We’ll catch up over the weekend sometime.”

 

“Great,” Shaw mumbled in reply. She’d be sure to not do that.

 

“Sorry about her. She gets a little excited.” Bethany lowered her voice, “I don’t think she gets much excitement at home if you know what I mean.”

 

Shaw fought not to roll her eyes. What the hell made these people think she actually wanted to be chatty? “Yeah, well it’s Bishop,” She replied offhandedly. The next time anyone felt any shred of excitement for being here would be the first time. “So is there anything else I need?”

 

“Oh no, if Paula gave you your name tag and gift bag you’re good.”

 

Shaw nodded and walked away without another word. The things she did for her country.

 

Cole found her twenty minutes later by the refreshments table. Her gift bag and t-shirt had been abandoned somewhere between the door and the platter of kolaches. “How is it that no one remembers this guy?” He looked enough like a former foreign exchange student that they were able to bring him out of the van so to speak. The alias wouldn’t hold up under too much scrutiny however, so Cole had to keep it low key. Observe, don’t engage was the rule of his day.

 

“Don’t question it,” Shaw replied. “If anyone actually did, they’d know you weren’t him.”

 

“I guess you have a point there.”

 

She always had a point. Cole should have figured that out by now. “Yeah, it’s why I typically do the undercover work while you stay in the van, Bertrand.”

 

“It’s Bert.”

 

“You think I care about your method acting bullshit?” She shoveled more pigs in a blanket on to her plate. At least the food wasn’t completely terrible. “You have any idea why we’re here or did you waste all afternoon working on that stupid British accent?”

 

“Nothing yet,” He shrugged. He was well accustomed to Shaw’s brusque nature by now. He leaned past her grabbing a few hors d’oeuvres for himself. “I’ve got a crawler scanning the guest list and correlating it with the FBI, CIA, and Homeland Security databases. Should narrow things down by morning.”

 

“Good, the sooner we can figure this out and get the hell out of here the better.”

 

“I don’t know,” Cole shrugged. “We’ve been in worse places for missions.”

 

“And I’d rather be in most of them,” She countered. She’d take waterboarding over forced small talk any day.

 

“You’re telling me there was nothing you liked about this town?”

 

Shaw tensed her jaw. There was one thing, well one person. She was sure to be long gone, however. Only one that hated this place more than Shaw. Not that she was going to get into all that with Cole. “Right now I like the open bar.” She drifted that way leaving Cole alone by the food table. “Whiskey, rocks, double.” She instructed the bartender.

 

He was efficient for a small town guy. Shaw had a chilled glass in her hand in under two minutes. She took a healthy swig of the amber liquid, swirling it around her palate for a moment, before swallowing. Thankfully, they had splurged on the booze for this thing.

 

She was able to drink relatively undisturbed for around ten minutes. Occasionally a familiar, yet aged face would nod or wave to her. Most people seemed to be keeping their distance for the moment. They either remembered her low tolerance for small talk clearly or they weren’t drunk enough yet to brave asking her any stupid questions about her ‘death.’ Probably a little of both actually.

 

“Good news, I have found the woman I’m going to marry.” Cole appeared by her elbow holding a bottle of Shiner. He was already acclimating to Texas well.

 

“If her name is Paula, I’m cutting you off.”

 

“Actually,” He ducked his head, “I don’t know her name yet.”

 

“Well, that relationship is off to a bang up start.” Shaw was going to have to signal for another drink. They still had no idea what their objective was and Cole was using the whole ordeal as a dating sim. And she just knew at any moment someone was going to try and tell her all about their kid the honor student. That called for gallons of booze.

 

Cole grabbed her arm and guided her towards the center of the room. “Over there, three o’clock, in the blue dress.”

 

Shaw’s eyes tracked across the crowded gym. “Son of a…” She muttered. Speak of the devil. Sam Groves got hot. Not that she was an unfortunate looking kid, but her legs in that dress were a whole other level. Shaw was tempted to gulp down the rest of her drink.

 

“Who is that?”

 

“No one,” She snapped. There was no way she was going to listen to Cole moon over Sam Groves. No way in seven layers of high school hell.

 

“Oh no that,” Cole pointed over to the woman. “That is clearly someone. Seriously, do you know her?”

 

“I see you’ve found our other bit of curiosity,” A third voice chimed in.

 

Shaw glanced over her shoulder, “Bethany, they let you escape the registration table?”

 

She wiggled a half empty margarita glass in the air. The electric green contents came dangerously close to sloshing out with the motion. “Had to top off my drink.” Hopefully, she was drunk enough not to notice Cole hadn’t been using his stupid accent just now. Though Shaw would gladly shoot her, for the good of national security of course.

 

“However will they manage without you?”

 

“Oh I know. They’re all really useless without me,” She replied, Shaw’s sarcasm going completely over her ridiculously high hair. “Can you believe Samantha Groves actually came?”

 

“She looks good,” Cole noted dumbly. Guy had a gift for understatement.

 

Bethany’s nose wrinkled like she had smelled something fowl. “Who are you again?”

 

He held out his hand, “Bert Collingsworth.”

 

Her frown deepened, “Who?”

 

“I take it Sam doesn’t make it a habit of attending these things?” Shaw interrupted.

 

“She’s been to as many as you,” Bethany groused, “And her excuse isn’t nearly as good as yours.”

 

“Well, I’d hate not to be the only zombie in attendance,” Shaw replied dryly.

 

“I suppose summer is the right time for slumming it.”

 

“Do I smell a bit of envy in your voice, Bethany?” Cole chuckled.

 

She took an angry sip from her glass. At the rate she was going she’d have to go get it topped off again before she could go back to the registration table. “You know she’s only here to rub the fact that she actually stumbled into a bit of money in all our faces.”

 

“Isn’t that the point of these things?” Shaw looked Bethany up and down. “I mean those shoes of yours cost what? Half your husband’s annual salary?” Even if they were knock offs.

 

Bethany made a choking noise. “Oh sorry it looks like Paula is waving to me.” She waved her hand not holding the drink exaggeratedly. “Have to go. Nice talking to you, Bart, Shaw.”

 

“It’s Bert.” Cole shook his head as he watched the woman hip check her way through the crowd. “So you do know her.”

 

“Who Bethany? Yeah she’s a bitch if you haven’t noticed.”

 

“No,” Cole pointed to where Sam Groves and a tall guy in an Armani suit were holding court. “My future wife, Ms. Groves was it?”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Leave it alone, Cole.”

 

“What? Is she another Bitchy Bethany?”

 

“No,” Shaw shook her head. Quite the opposite in fact. Well, to those that didn’t rightfully piss her off. Girl had a wicked temper for a nerd. “She’s too good for you.”

 

Root had found Shaw within minutes of entering the gym. “Right by the food. Somethings never change.” She’d kept an eye on her as she mingled. Reese trailed behind, playing the dutiful bodyguard. While she was basically presenting a successful yet boring version of herself to the crowd this evening, there was a need to construct a reasonable excuse for his presence. Root wasn’t about to suggest to anyone that they were romantically involved. She had to suppress a full body shudder at the mere thought.  

 

“You didn’t happen to go to school with both numbers did you?” Reese asked as they made their way through the crowd. He discreetly pointed to Michael Cole chatting up a woman by the refreshment table. Root wasn’t surprised he was here. They knew Cole had traveled down with Shaw. Though she had drifted out of sight while Root had been talking to a few hangers on.

 

“No,” Root replied focusing back on Reese’s question. She’d find her girl again soon enough. “Are we sure he isn’t Shaw’s date?”

 

“He could be,” Reese grumbled. “But he’s also wearing an alumni nametag.” Root glanced at the red stick on nametag currently clashing with the fabric of her bright blue dress. Sure enough the tag on Cole’s shoulder was red as well. Reese, as a guest, was wearing a green tag.

 

“So Sameen is playing herself but Mr. Cole is using a cover?”

 

“Seems like it,” Reese agreed. “We’re not the only ones working an angle here.”

 

“Well, now it really is a party.” She did so love riddles. Root nodded to the bar. “I’m feeling a little parched. Why don’t you see if you can get a closer look? Find out whose identity he’s assuming, while I grab a drink.”

 

“Just remember we’re working, Root.”

 

“I can multitask.” She made a shooing motion with her hand, “Toddle along, Lurch.”

 

She had just received a tall glass of some unnaturally red concoction called reunion punch when she heard a familiar voice ask, “Your boyfriend wander off?”

 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Root smiled around the straw in her drink. She turned to see Shaw standing beside her, glass of what she would bet was whiskey in hand. Whenever they could sneak hard liquor, it was what she went for. She once mentioned it reminded her of her father. “It’s cute you’re still so interested in my affairs.”

 

“I’m not,” Shaw scoffed. “It’s just a dick move to leave your date alone in the middle of this sort of thing. I like to be aware of all the assholes in the room.”

 

“Well, Lurch has his own unique brand of charm, but he’s not my date either.” She was proud of herself for not cringing at the mere implication. Root leaned back against the bar. “He’s my bodyguard.” The cover story fell so effortlessly from her lips.

 

“Bodyguard?”

 

Root nodded, “You make millions in internet security and you piss some people off. Go figure.”

 

That seemed to get Shaw’s hackles up. Her eyes narrowed, a muscle in her jaw twitched. “Someone’s threatened you?”

 

“There’s always bullies in hallways, Sam.”

 

That earned her a crooked grin. “Yeah, I seem to remember knocking a few of them out way back when.”

 

Shaw never let anyone mess with her. Root and Shaw had been sitting next to one another in the four classes they shared for about two months when one of the defensive linemen from the football team decided it would be funny to trip Root in the middle of the cafeteria. He walked into their shared sixth period history class later that day with a black eye and a split lip. He never admitted who he got into a fight with, seemingly too embarrassed. But he gave Shaw a wide berth after that day. Was it any wonder Root had harbored a tiny crush? “My knight in a wrinkled hoodie.”

 

Shaw snorted into her drink, “You haven’t changed all that much have you?” Root supposed she had used that line often when they were kids. It simply fit so well.

 

“You’d be surprised.” Everything she had gotten up to since they had last seen one another might even be enough to shock the unflappable woman next to her for once, Root thought.

 

“If anyone could, I’d bet it would be you,” Shaw allowed. She scowled as if realizing that could almost be a compliment, “You’ve always been a little out of your mind.”

 

Root tried not to focus on the warm feeling in her chest that first comment elicited. “How have you been Shaw?” She smirked, “Well, besides deceased?”

 

“Heard about that huh?”

 

“Local hero back from the dead.” She gestured to the people not so subtly staring at them. “It’s all the gossip.”

 

“Really, I thought local nerd could now buy the whole town was much more interesting.”

 

“You been checking up on me?” Root smiled.

 

“No.” Shaw polished off her drink. Root waved for the bartender to pour another before she could. “But that seems to be all Bethany and her cronies can talk about. I think you’re going to give at least three of them aneurysms.”

 

“Good thing we’ve got a doctor so close then.”

 

Now it was Shaw’s turn to ask, “You been checking up on me?”

 

“No,” Root replied. “I know you went to med school.” Everyone had known that was Shaw’s plan. It had also been mentioned in her obituary. No suspicious snooping required.

 

“Well, if you had been checking up, you’d know that I never finished my residency.”

 

“Is that the excuse we’re using to avoid helping when Bethany finally drops dead from envy?” She handed Shaw her new glass of whiskey.

 

Shaw snorted, “As good of one as any.”

 

Root smiled. Shaw was probably as docile as she was going to get under the circumstances. Time to peel back a few more layers. “So if you’re not a doctor, how do you occupy your time these days?”

 

“Oh uh I’m in bail enforcement.”

 

Root cocked an eyebrow, “Bounty hunting? Really?”

 

“What’s that tone about?” Shaw grumbled. “I was a Marine, saw combat. Idiots skipping out on their bail is nothing comparatively...” She stopped talking and looked down at Root’s fingers running over the tattoo on her forearm.

 

“I didn’t mean to imply anything, Sam,” She drawled. She wasn’t sure why she initiated the physical contact. A move that would calm most people would most likely only serve to agitate Shaw further. Root supposed she always enjoyed skirting boundaries. And all that skin on display was just far too tempting. “I was honestly curious. Aspiring surgeon to Marine, to bounty hunter, it’s a bit of a shift.”

 

“I guess,” Shaw pulled her arm away. “Whatever, it’s fine. You got questions, ask away.”

 

“Clearly the work suits you.” Root took another sip of her drink and gave her companion a long once over. Criminally tight black dress. Subtle hair and makeup. She had always belonged much loftier places than Bishop, but now… “You look good, Shaw.” Too good actually, as it was already proving to be a distraction.

 

“You don’t look half melted like the rest of our peers,” Shaw held up her glass in salute, “Good work.”

 

She tipped her head back and laughed. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done so honestly. When she recovered she smiled brightly at the cause of her merriment, “Did I ever tell you how much I adored your way with words?”

 

Shaw took a drink. “Don’t start now.”

 

“Can I say I missed your particularly dry wit?”

 

“Nope,” Shaw said over the rim of her glass, “Sentiment still makes me itchy.”

 

Root slid closer. Never let it be said she was one to pass up a prime opportunity when it fell into her lap, “If there’s ever anything you need me to scratch…”

 

“Sams!” An obnoxious voice interrupted before she could finish.

 

Root turned to glare at Michael Cole. When she chanced a look at Shaw she was glaring as well. And wasn’t that promising? “Bart,” The other woman snapped.

 

“Bert,” He corrected, clearly trying to get her to play along. He turned to Root, extending his right hand for a shake. “Bert Collingsworth, remember?”

 

“No,” Root rolled her eyes. That accent? So amateur hour. Whatever these two were up two it was clear that Cole didn’t normally operate on the undercover end of things.

 

“I remember you,” He smiled. “Nerdy Sam.” He pointed his beer bottle at Shaw, “Angry Sam. The Sams!” He chuckled. Root wondered if Shaw had told him about those old monikers or if he had picked them up mingling with the crowd.

 

“Oh I can give you angry,” Shaw slapped her glass down on to the bar.

 

Undeterred, he ignored her and ambled closer to Root. “I think we need to catch up.”

 

“And I think someone needs some air.” Shaw grabbed Cole’s wrist. “Come on Bert.” She yanked on his arm causing him to stumble backwards and away from Root. “Let’s find a dumpster you can air out in.” She began stomping away before he could comment.

 

“Good chat, Shaw,” Root called after them. “We’ll do this again soon.”

 

“What the hell was that?” Shaw hissed once she and Cole were on the other side of the gym. A wall of humanity now kept them from Sam’s view.

 

“Armani was hovering,” Cole explained. “It was creeping me out.”

 

“He’s Sam’s bodyguard. He’s supposed to hover.”

 

That news brought Cole up short. “Bodyguard?”

 

“Seems like Sam’s made some enemies. Look into it.” It was thin, but Shaw would take any lead she could get. And if a tiny part of her wanted to kick the crap out of any one threatening her old friend for whatever reason, she did her best not to think about it too much.

 

“You think your friend’s a terrorist?”

 

“No,” Shaw replied in her most biting tone, “But crazies on the fringes tend to dislike powerful women. Especially powerful women in male dominated industries like the tech business.”

 

“Good point,” Cole nodded. “I’ll stalk her Friendster account when we get done here.”

 

“Keep it strictly to business snooping.”


	3. Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our girls find some leads and spend a little quality time.

 

 

“I finally managed to decrypt the rest of Ms. Shaw’s service record.” Finch announced the next morning. They called him to check in over breakfast. Reese had picked up coffee and doughnuts from a little shop that had been on the town square since Root was barely able to see over the counter. He had been on Shaw watch for the early shift and had followed her into the place.

 

“And?” Root asked around a mouthful of jelly doughnut. Whatever he’d found it was bound to be good. She knew there was no way Sameen would waste her talents chasing down bail skippers.

 

“It appears Ms. Shaw never stopped working for the government.”

 

“We figured that one out already Finch.” Reese took a sip of his coffee. The CIA erased operatives all the time, to allow them to function without any traceable ties to the outside world. He had the death certificate to prove it.

 

“Yes, but it’s where she’s working that is the most fascinating part.”

 

“Don’t leave us hanging, Harry.” He didn’t actually need to drag the reveal out. She took a sip of her coffee. And people said she had a flair of the dramatic.

 

“Ms. Shaw has been running missions under the code name Catalyst Indigo for the ISA since her death.”

 

“Northern Lights?” Root sputtered. “Sameen is working for The Machine?”

 

Reese scratched his jaw. “And now someone wants her dead because of it?”

 

“I’m afraid Ms. Shaw may only be collateral damage.” They could hear the clicking of keys as Finch worked to remotely bring up a file on Root’s laptop. “Mr. Cole requested an official investigation into one of their assignments. He expressed some concerns to his supervisors about a group called Research.”

 

“The Machine,” Root supplied.

 

“His inquiry could potentially reveal The Machine’s existence to certain parties currently in the dark as to its existence.”

 

“In other words, he’s getting too close to the truth and the brass want to shut him up,” Reese surmised as he scanned the official looking memo now on screen. “They don’t know what he may have told Shaw and so they’re going to take them both out rather than risk that he shared any of his suspicions with his partner.”

 

“She wouldn’t let them do that,” Root argued. “The Machine wouldn’t let the government kill good operatives just because they got curious.”

 

“You’re assuming Shaw and Cole are the good guys here,” Reese interjected. “We don’t know Cole’s motives for asking for this inquiry.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with asking questions you Neanderthal.”

 

“Ms. Groves, please. I understand you are concerned for your friend. Mr. Reese is simply playing devil’s advocate.”

 

“You said it yourself, Harry. They’re going after Cole because he asked the wrong question. Not because he and Sameen are terrorists. I can’t believe she’s letting them do this.”

 

“The Machine can’t be everywhere Root.” Reese shrugged, “And in the grand scheme of things what are two operatives compared to the wrong people finding out about its existence?”

 

This wasn’t two operatives sacrificing themselves in the field for the good of the program. The government was planning on murdering Shaw…and Cole. “She cares about her operatives.”

 

“While you and I have differing opinions as to The Machine’s capacity to favor some individuals over others, Ms. Groves,” Finch gently interrupted, “I gather that an element of concern is the very reason why The Machine gave us Mr. Cole and Ms. Shaw’s numbers.”

 

Meanwhile two floors up, Shaw had just returned to her room from her morning jog. She pulled her tank top away from her skin to try and cool off a bit. The hotel was new enough to have a decent gym but she preferred running outside. Even if it was already nearly ninety degrees out there. She tapped on the door connecting her room to Cole’s. “You up yet, Loser?”

 

“Never went to sleep,” He replied as she pushed the door open.  He was sitting at the small table provided in every room. Several empty bottles of Mountain Dew created a wall between his laptop and the rest of the room. Looked like someone cleared out the hallway vending machine.

 

Shaw shook her head. “I thought guys were supposed to grow out of the whole frat boy thing.”

 

“Dunno, never went to college,” Cole absently muttered. His focus remained on the screen in front of him. She wiggled the bag of pastries she’d picked up after her run at him. He smiled and snatched it from her hand.

 

While he dug out one of the two remaining doughnuts from the half dozen that had once occupied the bag, she examined the screen. Lines of code ran back and forth. She couldn’t tell what he was up to. “So did your lack of sleep provide us with anything useful? Or were you chatting with your girlfriends on Ramblr?”

 

“Think I may have figured out who we’re here for,” He answered, sending crumbs all over his shirt.

 

He didn’t say anything more so after a beat, Shaw smacked the back of his head. When he turned to glare at her she sneered, “Are you going to tell me or continue to pause for dramatic effect?”

 

“Andrew Jarimski.” He began to type, half of his doughnut hanging from his mouth. A DMV photo of a Caucasian male a bit older than Shaw appeared on screen. She didn’t recognize him from her school days. “His social media traffic seems to show he’s something of a technophobe. Lots of babble about right to privacy, government invasion, Big Brother, your typical whack job script.”

 

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So oxymoron and moron?” What kind of technophobe bitched about technology by using technology?

 

“Oh and just wait for the bonus round, he has white supremacist ties as well.” He shoved the rest of the pastry into his mouth.

 

“Yeah, I can see why he looks like our winner.” Though it didn’t explain why Research decided to play a game of Clue with this job. “Anything else?”

 

“Not on him but,” He swallowed. “Your friend though.”

 

“Did you find anything on those threats she mentioned?” Any one Shaw could shoot perhaps?

 

“Still looking but…” He trailed off. He was making that constipated face he always got when delivering bad news.

 

“What?” Shaw groaned. Things never ended well when he made that face.

 

“Something’s off with her.” From future wife to something’s off in less than twelve hours. That was a new record for him. “She doesn’t smell right.”

 

She waited for him to say more but Cole kept silent staring at his screen. No way that was all he was going to give her. She twirled her hand in a keep going motion. “Meaning?”

 

“For starters I tried to hack her phone last night. Couldn’t do it. She’s got some crazy encryption set up.”

 

“She told me she works in internet security. It makes sense she’d safeguard her devices.” Honestly, that’s what had him worried? Shaw would have been worried if he had been able to easily break into her phone. It’d mean Sam was pretty crap at her job for starters.

 

“Maybe but her record is too clean,” He sighed. “Her employer, Thornhill Industries, popped up a few years ago.” She had given him a business card when he had cornered her near the end of the evening. “Standard information technology conglomerate from what I could find online. Good press but not a lot of it. There are a few patents registered jointly under the company name and Samantha Groves but it’s too pat.”

 

Okay. “How so?”

 

“Your friend is missing a few years. I could drive a truck through the gaps between when she left Bishop and reappeared in New York two years ago. No college loans, no mortgage, only a couple of credit cards, no parking tickets.”

 

“So she likes to pay in cash and keep it under the speed limit.” Didn’t necessarily sound like the girl she remembered. Sam had actually failed her driver’s test the first three times for speeding, that’s what happened when nerds learned to drive by playing Road Rash and the like on a Sega that ‘fell off a truck.’ Then again, people changed, and she hadn’t spent time with Samantha Groves for a lot of years now.

 

Cole kept prattling on, “People aren’t this clean, Shaw. It’s almost like...”

 

Again with the trailing off midsentence thing. “Like what?” She prodded.

 

“Like it’s processed.” He looked up at her, “A color copy of a life. A veneer. Like one of our covers.”

 

Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose. She trusted Cole’s instincts. She also knew Sam had the capacity for darkness. Wasn’t her story to tell but she knew the woman had skirted a dangerous edge even when they were kids. It didn’t, however, automatically make someone a terrorist. There had to be another connection they weren’t seeing. “You said the company she works for is known?”

 

“In certain circles,” He nodded.

 

“Would those circles happen to be of notice to Jarimski and his stone age buddies?” She walked over to the window, she processed better when she was moving.

 

“Maybe, Thornhill does have its fingers in a lot of pies from what I can tell. You think there’s a connection between Groves getting threats and Jarimski?”

 

“I don’t know,” She tensed her jaw as she looked out the window. People were starting to move about their morning routines. “But you’re right, this entire job smells off. Not just the fact that Sam’s background is funky, but Jarimski being an obvious idiot, the number we got from Research being coordinates instead of a social, all of it.”

 

Shaw heard the clack of keys but she didn’t look back over at Cole. “I’ve got flags on all of Jarimski’s accounts. Since he’s the best lead we’ve got, I’ll swing by his place see if I can tail him today.”

 

“Good idea. I’ll see what else I can find out about Sam.” Until they figured out if Jarimski was their guy for sure or not she was still a lead that needed to be followed.

 

“What are you going to do?”

 

Shaw grimaced as she started back towards her room to shower and change clothes, “Mingle.”

 

Just after lunchtime Root stood on the sidewalk and stared up at the Bishop Public Library. The afternoon’s events just had to be in the park adjacent to the stupid place. Standing on the cracked concrete made her realize that she should swing by Hanna’s old house before she left Bishop. Pay some type of respects.

 

“Should have burned that dump to the ground on your way out of town the first time.”

 

She glanced over her shoulder to see Shaw standing just behind her. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a neat ponytail today. She had her hands tucked into the pockets of incredibly tight black jeans. The matching black tank top she wore showed off immaculately sculpted arms and shoulders.

 

Root involuntarily licked her lips. “I was tempted trust me.”

 

Shaw cocked her head to the side. “What stopped you?”

 

Shaw knew exactly what the building in front of them meant to Root. She was the only one she ever told about Hanna after that fateful confrontation with Barbara Russell. To this day she’s not sure why she did. Maybe she had just been feeling nostalgic because it was Hanna’s birthday. Maybe she was simply desperate for someone to listen even if they couldn’t do anything more to bring Hanna back than she could. Either way Shaw had been Shaw, steadfast as ever. Ignoring Root’s crying and handing her one of the beers she had stolen from the football team’s end of season party. She had sat next to her in silence that entire night, watching the stars, letting her bleed her frustrations with the world out without judgement.

 

“Book burning’s not a good look as the kids say.”

 

Shaw snorted, “That’s where you draw the line?”

 

“You know I was never a people person,” Root shrugged. “Computers and books were always better.” She grinned, “Though I’ve recently added dogs to that list.”

 

“Speaking of,” Shaw said turning her focus away from the library. “Where’s your guard dog?”

 

“Around.” They had split up. Reese had stayed behind at the hotel to shadow Cole, while Root took care of a few errands before she went Shaw hunting. It was kismet that she found Root woolgathering.

 

It didn’t appear that Shaw liked that answer. Root watched a muscle in her jaw twitch before she replied, “I thought the point of close security was to be close?”

 

“The big lug is a bit, unconventional, in his methods.”

 

Shaw crossed her arms over her chest. Root was tempted to trace the line of her bicep with her fingertips. And then her teeth. She was just so ripped. “Well, is he planning on being around sometime today?”

 

“Why?”

 

“I’m assuming if you’re paying for security it means you actually need it,” Shaw answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Root supposed it would be had she actually needed it.

 

“Awe Sam,” She bumped her shoulder, “Are you worried about me?”

 

She shrugged, “Force of habit being back here I guess.” Shaw had always played the role of protector. Which made Reese’s assumptions this morning all the more infuriating. He didn’t know Sameen Shaw like Root did. The woman might be dangerous but she’d never betray a cause she swore to uphold.

 

“Rest assured, I can take care of myself these days.” Root pulled her Taser out of her oversized handbag and held it up for Shaw to see. The guns she had also packed that morning, remained safely out of sight.

 

Shaw raised her hands. “Oh excuse me, Ms. Badass.”

 

“It gets the job done,” She replied putting it away once again. More than one person had underestimated just how well over the years. Much like they underestimated Root herself. It made life fun.

 

“Uh huh,” Shaw sounded completely unimpressed. Oh how she longed to make an impression. But it was far too early to show Shaw exactly what she could get up to. The other woman nodded towards the street. “Come on then.”

 

Root scrunched her brow in confusion, “Where?”

 

“You’re going to this stupid softball thing right?”

 

“I thought I might swing by.” She had been planning on looking for Shaw there. So if she was going Root would be there as well. They still didn’t know when and where the threat to Shaw and Cole would rear its head.

 

“Well, then I’ll swing with you.”

 

“Careful,” Root bit her lip, “That almost sounded like a proposition.”

 

Shaw stepped in close. “If I was planning on propositioning you, Groves, there’d be no almost about it.”

 

“Oh do tell.” Root hooked her arm through Shaw’s. Just like old times, she immediately pulled away with a scowl. Root chuckled, “Graphically, please.”

 

“I think your lines have gotten worse with age.” Shaw tucked her hand back in her pocket and started walking towards the park where the game was being held. The trip went by in comfortable silence. It had always been that way between the two of them. They could banter and jibe one minute and then be perfectly content to remain side by side in silence for hours afterwards. Root never felt the need to fill the silence with noise, because her time with Shaw never felt empty.

 

She should probably have been more concerned that she felt the same as a grown woman.

 

But then again. Shaw paused for a moment to bend down and retie one of her boots. Root cocked her head to the side to not so discretely check her out. Time and a Marine approved fitness regimen had been nothing but kind to that ass. Root raked her teeth over her bottom lip. The word scrumptious came to mind.

 

A beep in her earpiece startled her out of her reverie. “Root?”

 

“Not a good time, Lurch,” She muttered under breath.

 

“Get away from your girlfriend and call me back.” Reese hung up before she could reply to that.

 

“Rude,” Root grumbled to herself

 

“Who?” Shaw asked. She had finished and was now standing beside her again.

 

“Just thinking about a particularly moronic coworker,” She replied breezily. “Nothing to trouble yourself over, Sweetie.”

 

Shaw shrugged her shoulders and started walking. Root’s longer legs enabled her to catch up to her energetic stride easily. After about a block Shaw began to speak. “So you mentioned you’re in internet security last night, what’s that like?”

 

“Chatting about work, Sam, really?” Sure they had briefly touched on it the night before but Shaw had never been interested in what she dubbed Root’s “computer crap.” The question felt forced coming from her. Root didn’t like it.

 

“Isn’t that the point of this whole thing? Catching up?” Shaw shrugged, “Just following the script.”

 

Root stopped walking. “You’ve never had to follow any script with me before, Sameen. Why start now?” They didn’t pretend with each other. Root never tried to hide her misanthropy from Shaw, and Shaw never pretended like she felt things the same way everyone else did around Root. There was no need to act ‘normal’ with one another.

 

“Okay maybe that was awkward,” Shaw allowed. She had to turn around, having continued on without realizing Root had stopped walking. She came back to stand in front of her. “But maybe I honestly want to know how you’ve been.”

 

“So you start with work?”

 

“You brought a bodyguard to the reunion, is there even a personal life for me to ask about?”

 

“Touché,” Root replied. Saving the numbers didn’t really afford a great deal of time for a social life. And she wasn’t about to join Angler no matter how often She prodded. For once she didn’t feel like making up a story just for the sake of her cover however, so she attempted to redirect the conversation. “What about you though? No one on your arm for this lovely trip down memory lane either.”

 

“No.” Shaw started walking again. Root quickly fell back into step beside her.

 

“Really, there aren’t hordes of people waiting to break down your door?” Root would be there with every lock pick she owned and a pile of C4 if it were even remotely possible.

 

“Oh I’ve had offers,” Shaw replied. “I’m just a pragmatist. Three dates and that’s it. No muss no fuss.”

 

“Sounds very sensible,” Root teased. “Prudent even.”

 

“Don’t knock it. There’s a lot of freaks out there, Sam,” Shaw shook her head. “And I’m not talking freaky in the fun way.”

 

“Now there’s a topic.” Root lowered her voice to a scandalous whisper, “Which freaks exactly do you consider the most fun? Top five. I’ll make a list.”

 

“I walked right into that one,” Shaw scowled.

 

Root crowed in delight, “You are still far too easy.” She put a hand on her chest and gasped, “Is that why it only takes three dates?”

 

Shaw shoved her shoulder. “You’re still a brat. Probably why you don’t have any dates lined up.”

 

Root’s face fell, “That’s hurtful, Sweetie.”

 

“Well it’s clearly not because of your looks,” Shaw elaborated.

 

Now wasn’t that interesting? Root kept her eyes forwards but prompted, “Oh?”

 

“Come on Sam you must know you’re hot.”

 

“I’m certainly happy you think so.”

 

“Yeah well the point is you’re not butt ugly or anything,” Shaw huffed in annoyance, “So the issue must be your not so charming personality.”

 

“Or maybe I’m far too busy to date.”

 

“I find it real hard to believe your computer mumbo jumbo keeps you that busy.”

 

“You’d be surprised,” Root drawled. Exceedingly, she’d wager. They stopped at a red light to wait for traffic to pass before they could cross to the entrance of the park.

 

While they waited a van parked on the opposite corner caught Root’s eye. More specifically the crew cut sitting in the driver’s seat with a telephoto lens pointed at the crowd, that he wasn’t even trying to hide. Amateur.

 

Looks like she had another reason to give Tarzan a call back. Root needed to put some distance between herself and Shaw for a bit. But how to distract the other woman without making her think she was putting her off? Or worse bringing the van to her attention?

 

They crossed the street when the light turned, Shaw not appearing to pick up on the fact they were being watched as they joined the crowd filling the park. Root glimpsed the perfect distraction standing a few feet away. “Oh look there’s Mr. Reynolds. We should go say hi.”

 

Shaw looked at her like she had just suggested they go do cyanide shooters under the bleachers. “Think I’ll pass.”

 

Root repressed her urge to smile. Shaw absolutely detested Mr. Reynolds and what she described as his granola ways. He had always tried to get her to discuss how poetry made her feel in class. “Like people have too much time on their hands. They’re all about sex, death, or Jesus anyway why are you asking me?” There was no way she’d willingly engage the English Teacher in conversation.

 

Root simply adored when a plan came together. “Okay, I’ll just be a sec. Meet you over by the bleachers?”

 

“Fine,” Shaw mumbled and stomped off. Root watched to make sure she was out of sight before turning back towards the street.

 

From what she could see the van itself was legit. The plates were current and the phone number on the back did ring up the local animal shelter. The driver, however was not. Even if she hadn’t seen the camera, his body would have given him away. His posture was stiff, military. He wasn’t in a uniform, and his haircut screamed government employee. She’d bet her favorite Taser that the only dog in the back was the type that came on a bun. Surveillance was hungry work after all. “Wonder if Cole has some new friends as well?”

 

“Hey Lurch,” Root opened her comm. “What was the emergency?”

 

“Root. You have eyes on Shaw?”

 

“Both of them.” Technically, The Machine was watching her through the park’s security cameras. She had made a side trip to city hall and the police station that morning to tap into the city’s CCTV network.

 

“Cole’s heading your way in his rental car,” Reese replied. “He’s been following a man named Andrew Jarimski all morning. Ring any bells?”

 

The name was vaguely familiar. After a moment the reason why came to her, “I think his family owns one of the big ranches near here.”

 

“Used to own,” Reese corrected her. “I had Finch run his financials. The property is in foreclosure. He’s being evicted in two weeks.”

 

“Now that’s a prime bit of gossip,” Root tapped her fingers against her chin. “And something about our soon to be former rancher has caught the ISA’s interest.”

 

“Seems so.”

 

At least they knew a bit more about the real reason Shaw and Cole had come to town. “Well, since we’re catching up I was wondering if you had noticed if Cole had picked up a tail. Other than you of course.”

 

“Not that I’ve seen. Shaw have another secret admirer?”

 

“There’s a van from the local ASPCA here. Funny thing is it’s full of rats.”

 

“Government or amateur?”

 

“Amateur government by the looks of it,” Root replied. The driver had brought up his camera again. So obvious. “I’m going to take a closer look.”

 

“Be careful.”

 

“Awe you do like me.”

 

“Not really,” He grumbled. “I’d just hate to have to tell Lionel you were gone, is all.”

 

“Don’t lie, Lionel’s not the only one cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.” A loud beep in Root’s ear denoted Reese had severed their connection. She chuckled. He was far too easy to annoy sometimes.

 

Fun and games over for the moment, Root dug around in her bag until she found a small plastic container about the size of a box of tic-tacs. She popped the lid and took out a small transceiver. She returned the container to the bag. Then she pulled out a knife. She looked down at her feet. “And I really did like these sandals,” With a sigh she slipped the blade between her ankle and one of the shoe’s leather straps.

 

A couple of minutes later she approached the van from behind. The rear windows were completely blacked out. As she walked closer she couldn’t hear anything that sounded remotely like any animal sounds. When she drew parallel to the front seats she mimed tripping. Her right hand slammed into the passenger side door. The driver startled. He whipped around in the seat to look over at her. She noticed his left hand inched toward his right hip. Cross draw.

 

“Oh I’m sorry,” Root drawled. “The strap on my sandal,” She reached down and pulled off her shoe. She held it up. “Just snapped. Nearly broke my ankle.”

 

“Are you alright ma’am?” His accent marked him as distinctly Midwestern. They couldn’t find any local boys for this one? Honestly, did no one respect authenticity? Between this guy and Cole’s atrocious British accent, ugh, Root mentally scoffed.

 

“Oh fine,” She waved the shoe at him. “But aren’t you a gentleman for asking.” She leaned in the passenger side window, being sure to lead with her chest. The lace sundress with the plunging neckline was an unexpectedly excellent choice for the day’s apparel.

 

“A pretty lady brings it out in me,” He smiled. Hazel eyes trailed down to her cleavage.

 

And another one on the hook. “Charmer,” She smiled. From the corner of her eye she could see that there was a black tarp concealing the back of the van from view. There was a tiny sliver of space between it and the side of the van that Root could see a bit of a laptop screen through. BINGO. “Oh.” She faked a sneeze and dropped the shoe. “Goodness, aren’t I a mess today?”

 

“But a pretty one.” He grinned and leaned down to grab the sandal from the floorboard at his feet. Root smiled and let the bug she had taken from her bag earlier fall between the passenger seat and the door. The corner of her mouth ticked up when she saw it bounce and disappear under the seat.

 

The man sat up again. She smiled at him. “Here you go.” He held out the sandal to her.

 

“Thanks,” She smiled taking it from him. “You have a nice day.”

 

“You too ma’am.” If he had a hat he’d be tipping it. Root suppressed an eye roll. They made it far too easy sometimes.

 

Shaw prowled the park in the meantime. Making absolutely sure not to make eye contact with anyone for too long lest they assume she was open to seeing baby pictures or talking about 401Ks. She was about to suck it up and turn back to where she had last seen Sam, hippy teachers be damned, when she heard a familiar voice.

 

“Jeremy, be a dear and bring me my shotgun. There’s walking dead about.”

 

Shaw turned to see a golden skinned woman in faded jeans and an oversized UT t-shirt pointing a bottle of beer at her. She nodded to the woman, “Natalia.” They had been in several classes together. Nat was one of the few people besides Samantha in this town that Shaw could actually stand.

 

“Shaw,” The woman grinned. She pointedly looked her up and down. “You make the zombie thing look good.”

 

“I knew someone would make that joke eventually,” She groaned.

 

Nat cocked an eyebrow at her, “If you didn’t want to hear bad jokes, you shouldn’t have made your grand resurrection tour on a weekend when there was free booze everywhere.”

 

“Excellent point.”

 

“Can’t believe they actually got you back for one of these things.” Nat went over to one of the coolers that seemed to be lying about everywhere and pulled out two bottles of Shiner. She held one out to Shaw.

 

“You got room to throw stones in that glass house of yours, Nat?” Shaw twisted the cap off the bottle of beer and tossed it towards one of the park’s trash cans.

 

She laughed, “Touché. In my defense I don’t get back here to see my mom as much as I should so two birds, ya know?”

 

Shaw hadn’t seen her own mother in years. Now that she thought about it, this resurrection thing probably merited a phone call. Not that her mom thought she was dead all this time, she was one of the very few who didn’t. But she’d probably be getting calls from people who had. Shaw didn’t even have time for that lecture. She nodded to Nat, “So you got out?”

 

Nat smiled, “Went to Austin for college as planned. Never left.” She took a sip of her beer, “I’d ask you, but that story has been getting bigger and bigger as the weekend goes along. I’d hate to ruin the air of mystery.” She took another sip. “You killed Bin Laden by the way.” She saluted Shaw with her bottle.

 

“God these people are morons.” Shaw shook her head and took a long pull from her bottle of beer.

 

“Here comes one of your favorites now,” Nat chuckled. “Stephen,” She nodded to a pudgy guy with a receding hairline. He smiled at her and then practically tripped all over himself when he noticed Shaw. Needless to say he didn’t stick around to make small talk.

 

“So you still have the same effect on Shitty Steve.”

 

Shaw grinned, she couldn’t believe that nickname was still getting traction. “His dad still own the fertilizer plant?” The name itself was a bit of a misnomer, the guy dealt in chemical fertilizers not actual manure, but kids would be kids. Who cares about accuracy when a pun could be made.

 

“Oh no, Steve Sr. retired a couple years ago. Jr.’s literally the shit now,” Nat laughed.  After a few minutes she grinned slyly at Shaw, “So still holding a grudge? Just want to know if I should make sure my car is well away from his in the lot.”

 

The incident she was referring to happened the fall of their senior year. Shaw had gotten into a fight with her mother over the weekend about something stupid. In a bout of rebellion, she had skipped a couple days of school. When she had returned on Wednesday morning Sam’s seat in homeroom was empty. Nat had been the one to break the news. “Steve got a little handsy with Groves, apparently he had been sneaking some vodka in his big gulp. Any way he said something about turning the nerd and Groves laid him out with one punch. Can you believe that shit? With her little noodle arms?”

 

Shaw’s vision had gone red. But she wasn’t pissed at Steve. She was pissed at herself. She knew how those idiot jocks treated Sam whenever they found an opportunity. She also knew that those opportunities never arose when she was around. But she had decided to skip because she couldn’t deal with her own shit and Sam paid the price.

 

When Sam returned from her suspension the following Wednesday her hand and wrist were in a bright purple cast. She had grinned sheepishly when she caught Shaw staring at it. “For an idiot, Steve sure had a hard head.” With that Shaw knew that Sam didn’t blame her absence for what happened. Didn’t stop the ball of rage from building in Shaw’s stomach. In fact, it sort of made it burn brighter. Shaw resolved then and there to teach Steve a lesson and Sam how to throw a proper punch.

 

Two days later Sam sat in her third period government class, which just so happened to be on the side of the building overlooking the student parking lot, which she also happened to share with Steve. Their instructor was in the middle of a lecture about the Electoral College when something strange happened. Steve’s car, the shiny little cherry red sports car his daddy bought him, spontaneously combusted. Burst into flames in the middle of the lot with no warning. They never did figure out how it happened. Weirdest thing.

 

“He keeps his hands to himself, the fireworks show will stay strictly legal,” Shaw muttered, glaring at the man with the memory.

 

“Ha! I knew it was you,” Nat crowed. “You were always way too into burning stuff in Chemistry.”

 

Shaw shrugged and drained the rest of her beer in one long gulp. As she watched a familiar looking face walked up to Steve. Their conversation soon turned animated. Lots of pointing fingers and waving hands. Something told her they weren’t arguing about softball. “Who’s that he’s talking to?”

 

“Andy. He graduated our freshmen year,” She scrunched up her face in thought. “Oh well of course you wouldn’t know him. I always forget you didn’t turn up until junior year. Andy Jarimski, his family has owned that big ranch on the south side of town for generations.”

 

“Really?” Shaw clicked her tongue against her teeth. So that was their guy. “Does anyone leave this town?”

 

“We did,” Nat replied. “Sam Groves obviously did.” She waved to someone. Shaw glanced over her shoulder to see Sam walking towards them, with Cole. At least he was taking his assignment tailing Jarimski seriously. Though they were going to have a chat about being low key given the stupid Hawaiian shirt he was wearing.

 

And the soppy looks he kept giving Sam.

 

“Look who I ran into in the parking lot?” Cole announced, when they were in a couple of feet of where they stood.

 

Shaw ignored him to frown at Sam. “What were you doing in the parking lot?” That’s nowhere near where she had left her.

 

“Oh the strap on my sandal broke. Paula was nice enough to offer me some duct tape to fix it.”

 

“Lord she didn’t follow you back did she?” Nat glanced around wildly.

 

“Sadly she had to go take care of something by the dugout. I tuned out as soon as balls were mentioned,” Sam replied, her nose scrunching at the word balls.

 

“Thank god.”

 

“Not a fan?”

 

“Never was, why start now?” Nat countered. Sam tilted her head to concede the point. “You look good Groves.” She gestured between Sam and Shaw. “You both do. Disgustingly so. I’m going to be a little bitter about it. Hope you don’t mind.”

 

“At least you’re honest,” Shaw drawled.

 

“I’m petty, not a total monster,” Nat shrugged and took another sip from her beer. She nodded to Cole, “You know you almost look like an entirely different person, Bert. Thank god for late growth spurts huh?”

 

“Yeah,” Cole awkwardly chuckled. He shot Shaw a panicked look. This is why he needed to stick with the van and let her handle things.

 

She was trying to come up with a good distraction when Sam did it for her, “So Nat do you still live in Austin? My firm is looking at a few properties down there.” The two of them began to chat animatedly about real estate.

 

Cole’s panicked look turned to one of sheer relief. Shaw wanted to roll her eyes at him and then slap him upside the head. Idiot. She idly wondered how good Sam would be at undercover work. She was apparently excellent with the computer side of things from what Cole said about the encryption on her phone. Sam would be a damn sight better to look at when trapped in the van on stakeout as well. She caught Shaw staring and winked, rather her version of winking, which was more like a double blink. Shaw chuckled to herself. Nerd never figured out how to pull that one off.

 

She turned her gaze away from Sam and back on to the crowd. She was here to work after all. Shaw scowled as she noticed Jarimski and Shitty Steve walking away from the area together. Something told her that she needed to follow. “Sam you need a drink.”

 

She tried to wave her off, “Oh no I’m fine.”

 

“It’s practically a hundred degrees out here can’t take chances with dehydration,” Shaw replied, she wasn’t going to take no for an answer here. “Besides I’m hungry.” She grabbed Cole’s arm. “Bert and I will go grab us some drinks and snacks. You good to go find us some seats for the game?”

 

“There’s a cooler right there.” She pointed at the large blue and white tub Nat had taken their drinks from earlier.

 

“It’s full of beer,” Shaw raised her empty bottle for emphasis, “Which you hate if I remember correctly.”

 

Sam held up a hand, “Really you don’t have to trouble yourself. Or I can come along.”

 

Nat took Sam’s arm. “I know you two were attached at the hip way back when Groves, but I think your girl will be fine for a few minutes without you,” She teased. “I’ll go with you to stake out a good spot. You’ll never believe what I just got Shaw to admit to.”

 

“Great,” Shaw nodded. She tugged Cole forward. “Be back in a bit.” She quickly guided him in the right direction to follow the men. Cole caught on quickly once he saw Jarimski. They made sure to keep their distance while not losing sight of them in the crowd.

 

“What in the hell are you wearing?” Shaw snapped when they stopped for a moment while Jarimski and Steve paused to speak to a woman manning one of the food stations.

 

“It’s a ball game and a BBQ.” He held out the hem of his shirt, like anyone needed a better look at that polyester monstrosity. “I’m blending in.”

 

“I need you to pull out your little computer and google the term blend when we’re done here.”

 

Cole ignored her. He raised a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Besides you never told me you went to high school on the surface of the sun.”

 

“It’s not that hot.” She was barely sweating.

 

“Yes, it is.” He pointedly glared at her jeans. He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts along with the Polynesian nightmare up top. “You’re just a robot.”

 

Well, she was tempted to go all Terminator 2 on his ass. She took a breath and instead asked, “Our boy do anything interesting this morning?”

 

“I think he’s moving. Maybe going to meet up with some of his supremacist buddies.”

 

“How did you come to that conclusion?”

 

“For one, his wife was packing up her car.” Shaw frowned, that guy had a wife? “Also he rented a big ass U-Haul. Just dropped it off at his place before coming here.”

 

She pursed her lips. That wouldn’t trigger a number from Research. She nodded as the men began moving again. The crowds became thinner the further they went. Eventually, the men turned and walked behind a row of batting cages. Shaw and Cole took up position on the near side, crouching down to try and stay out of their notice. The green mesh that formed most of the structure obscured them from view but it did very little to muffle the sound of the pair’s voices.

 

“Losers,” Shaw mumbled under her breath. Cole simply grinned.

 

“Why did you have to drag me back here?” Shitty Steve asked. Apparently, none too happy to have his afternoon interrupted.

 

“My order, is it ready?”

 

“It’s been ready. Just been waiting on you to settle up your tab.” Steve cleared his throat. “Give me my seventy-five thousand and you can have your order.”

 

“Seventy-five?” Jarimski growled. “You told me forty last week.”

 

“I’ve had time to think. You’re not planning on turning that cattle ranch into an alfalfa farm.” He poked him in the chest. “None of my business what you’re up to exactly, but you get busted doing it and where are they going to come looking first? Call it a hazard tax.”

 

“Fifty,” Jarimski tried to haggle.

 

“Sixty-five or I make a phone call to the sheriff’s office.”

 

“Fine. I’ll have the money tomorrow night. Eight. Maria will be gone and everyone else will be at the dance. Have my order ready to load. No cops.”

 

Shaw and Cole quickly rose and sprinted away. They stopped behind a copse of oak trees that still had a direct sightline to the batting cages. “What do you think those two are dealing in?” Cole asked.

 

“They’re going to pull a McVeigh.”

 

“What?”

 

“The truck. The money. Shitty Steve’s fertilizer plant. Tick, tick, boom.” Shaw tapped her fingers against the trunk of one of the trees. A mobile bomb. Most likely a highly powerful one. “But what’s the target?” She wondered aloud.

 

Cole swallowed, “What do you want to do?”

 

“We need more information.” Shaw gestured towards the batting cages, where they could see Jarimski begin to walk back towards the reunion crowds. “See if you can get into Jarimski’s phone. I’ll keep an eye on Steve see if he talks to anyone else.”

 

Cole nodded and started to walk back the way they came. He paused about half way to turn and grin at her, “At least this weird job is starting to make sense huh?”

 

She pursed her lips, “Your Disney princess-like ability to find the bright side is exhausting.” He shook his head and started after his target.

 

Steve made his way around the perimeter of the park. Here and there he would stop to briefly say hello to someone. None of these conversations lasted for very long however. He was clearly working the crowd but it seemed more like an ego thing than plotting a crime spree. Shaw’s gut was telling her that what they had overheard was the sum total of Steve’s involvement. “Doesn’t mean Jarimski isn’t working with someone else though,” She grumbled to herself.

 

Shaw kept Steve in view as she wandered over to one of several grill stations set up on the edge of the field. She really was starting to get hungry. She grabbed a few foil bundles after being told by the overly friendly alum manning the grills that they contained burgers, chicken sandwiches, and sausages. Apparently there was a table with tamales somewhere closer to the stands. She made a mental note to find it.

 

“Should I be jealous?”

 

Shaw turned to see Sam standing behind her. “What?”

 

“You and Barry were gone an awfully long time and you’re just now getting the food.”

 

Her and Cole? Please. Shaw almost felt like laughing it was that absurd. “Bert kept trying to get me to give him the inside track about you. I had to take a little time to warn him off.”

 

“Oh,” Sam smirked. “And what if I had been appreciating his attention?”

 

“Please,” She scoffed.

 

“What?” Sam’s smirk widened into a wicked smile, “He has pretty eyes.”

 

“If you were going to go for a guy,” Shaw began. She and Sam had never had any sort of cliché coming out revelation moment but she always thought Sam’s tastes swam exclusively in the lady end of the pool. “Huge if. It would be someone with a little more edge than Bert.” Even if Cole weren’t playing a role, she figured he’d be a little too tame for Sam.

 

“True, I’m much more into the type of person who would blow up a car for me.”

 

“Nat has a big mouth.”

 

“Oh come on Sameen don’t pout. If anything I should be.” Sam tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve kept your secret all this time and you go and admit it to Natalia on a whim.”

 

“You knew?” She never said anything. It was odd. Sam wouldn’t let her live it down for days afterwards if she did something so slight as punch a loudmouth that was hassling her. To think she’d let something that big go all these years?

 

“Of course. Who else would have been brilliant enough to pull that off?” She bit her lip, “Well, besides me.”

 

“You are so full of yourself.”

 

“If you’d ever like to fill…” She was interrupted by the ringing of Shaw’s phone.

 

“Sorry,” Shaw said as she juggled the food and tried to pull the device from her pocket. Sam started taking the food from her and stuffing it in her ridiculous purse. When Shaw finally managed to free her phone Code Monkey flashed across the screen. Cole. “Its work. I have to take this.”

 

“Go ahead. I’ll see if I can find those drinks you disappeared for and meet you right back here.” With that Sam wandered over to another station made up of large rolling coolers.

 

Shaw hit the answer button on her phone as soon as she was sure Sam was out of earshot. “What?”

 

“Am I interrupting something?”

 

“My lunch,” Shaw covered, for some reason not wanting to tell him she had met back up with Sam.

 

“Feel free to chew and listen,” He replied. Shaw could hear what sounded like an engine revving in the background.

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Back in the parking lot. Apparently the park is a no smoking zone. That Paula woman almost took off Jarimski’s head when she caught him lighting up.”

 

Shaw snorted at that mental image. “Maybe Control should sign her up.”

 

“Maybe,” He chuckled. “Jarimski is sitting in his car. I bummed a cigarette off of him while I cloned his phone.”

 

“Good work.”

 

“Not exactly,” He loudly exhaled. “I think the phone’s a no go, Shaw.”

 

“Encrypted?”

 

“No, but it’s just linked to the same social media accounts I’m already monitoring and his business email. Lot of talk about cows. Cost of feed. Order of barb wire fencing. Oh hello.”

 

“Got something?”

 

“Notice from the bank,” Cole replied. “Seems foreclosure proceedings on the ranch are in full effect.”

 

“Explains the wife packing up the car.”

 

“It may also explain the truck.”

 

Shaw shook her head though he couldn’t see it. “It might if not for the now even more random fertilizer order.” Why would the guy need product for land he didn’t even own anymore? Steve was right, Jarimski wasn’t planning on farming.

 

“Think he’s going after the bank?”

 

“Could be. Or it could be related to that technobabble you found on his social media, or the supremacist stupidity.” Honestly, this guy hit the trifecta on bad intentions. If he felt he had nothing to lose who knows what direction he’d lash out in. She rubbed the back of her neck. “We need to get into his personal accounts to be able to narrow it down.”

 

“We could just take him out now. No terrorist, no threat.”

 

Shaw disagreed. “That’s only if he’s working alone. If he has any collaborators there could still be an attack even if I put a bullet in him.”

 

“The wife might not be at the house now.” Shaw could hear Cole drumming his fingers on the hood of his car. “Even if she is, I could go in. Knock her out.”

 

“No, we know when the exchange will take place.” There was no bomb without those chemicals. “We can hold off for the night and see if she leaves in the morning.” For now, the risk wasn’t worth it.

 

 


	4. Day Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth isn't the only thing that comes out.

 

 

Root smiled brightly the next morning as she reached her assigned table at brunch. Shaw was in one of the chairs plowing her way through a gargantuan stack of pancakes. Two other plates full of food bracketed her seat. “Hey, Sweetie.” Shaw looked up at her and grunted what she thought was a hello.

 

It wasn’t a surprise Shaw was at her table. Root had gone in and changed the seating chart the night before. Tissue paper had stronger walls than the security on the hotel’s catering server. Honestly, she had done a public service. Shaw had originally been seated at Bethany’s table. That was a call for an intervention before a murder could happen if Root had ever seen one.

 

She settled into the chair to Shaw’s left. She set her messenger bag on the chair beside her, knowing it would remain empty. “And how are you this lovely morning?”

 

Shaw answered her question with a question, “You’re here alone?”

 

“Yes,” Root tilted her head in confusion, “I thought we established that yesterday.”

 

“Okay seriously what are you paying the guy in the suit for?” Shaw grumbled. Root’s eyes widened the slightest bit. Oh she had been speaking about Reese. Root smiled, Sameen was so cute when she got all overprotective. “He’s never around.”

 

“Do you honestly think I’m in danger sitting here eating brunch with you?” Root giggled. She bat her eyelashes at Shaw, “You’d protect me wouldn’t you?”

 

“Maybe you should pay me instead of chuckles then.”

 

Root propped her head on her arm and grinned at her, “I couldn’t begin afford what you’re worth.”

 

“That,” Shaw pointed a syrupy fork at her, “Wasn’t actually that bad.”

 

“Are you saying my charms are finally working on you?”

 

“No.” She shoved another enormous bite of pancakes into her mouth and chewed for a minute. “Just saying that for once your twisted little brain came up with something decent.”

 

The waiter appeared at Root’s elbow then. She ordered a small veggie omelet and some fruit for herself and another jumbo-sized stack of pancakes for Shaw. She also instructed him to charge what Shaw had already ordered to her room. “You didn’t have to do that,” Shaw mumbled around a mouthful of food when he walked away from the table after pouring Root a cup of coffee.

 

“Would you stick around here once you ran out of food?” Root asked. Shaw tilted her head to the side considering it. “I just wanted to give you a little incentive,” Root added. “As for the rest, it’s not like I can’t afford it.” Harry was footing the bill after all.

 

Shaw didn’t argue further. Instead she switched her focus from the now empty pancake plate to one loaded with potatoes and eggs. Root glanced around the room. “So where’s Bob?” She’d begrudgingly placed Cole’s alias at their table as well. It’d look a wee bit suspicious had it only been the two of them on the seating chart.

 

“How should I know?” Shaw frowned as one of her fried potatoes proved more elusive than breakfast food should. It kept sliding away from her fork when she tried to stab it. She was glaring down at it like its existence was a personal insult.

 

“He seems to hang around you a lot,” Root prodded.

 

“Bert’s not so annoying,” She answered finally shoving the bite of food into her mouth. “Besides his wardrobe.”

 

“It is an acquired taste,” Root agreed as she took a sip of her coffee. “At least he has a personal sense of style, wrong as it may be.”

 

“You can acquire syphilis, no one brags about it.”

 

“If only bad fashion could be cured with penicillin,” Root giggled. Shaw was still focused on her food but her lips ticked up in the smallest smile. A tiny, embarrassing part of Root wanted to fist pump for earning that reaction. Instead she sat quietly and watched Shaw eat for a few minutes.

 

“What?”

 

“What?”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “You’re staring.”

 

“I like seeing a beautiful woman enjoying life’s simple pleasures.”

 

“You are so full of shit.”

 

Root placed a hand on her chest in mock offense. “Me?”

 

“You,” Shaw drawled. “Good thing I know you.” She stabbed a few more potatoes with her fork, “Normal people would consider that sort of thing creepy.”

 

“But you don’t?”

 

“I’m used to you.” The waiter reappeared then with Root’s breakfast and Shaw’s second plate of pancakes. Root had a good laugh when the young man reached for the empty dishes at Shaw’s elbow with the same amount of caution one would exercise when reaching into a bear trap.

 

“I think you made an impression on the staff,” Root noted when they were alone again.

 

Shaw snorted, “Idiot tried to tell me that since they were out of milk that soy would be a great substitute.” She practically spat the word soy.

 

“You know some people drink it for precisely that reason, Sameen.”

 

“Those people are twisted. Go cow or go home.” Root simply smiled at her. She did love a gal who knew her own mind. “Again with the creepy staring.” She tapped the rim of Root’s plate with her fork. “Eat your eggs, weirdo.”

 

Root smiled and picked up her fork. “I thought you said you didn’t find it creepy?”

 

“I don’t. But you never know who could be watching.” Oh if she only knew.

 

“I’m not concerned about the opinion of anyone else here.”

 

“That’s because you’re not an idiot,” Shaw begrudgingly allowed.

 

“My, my you’re just full of compliments this morning.”

 

“Is that why you came to this thing? Fishing for compliments?”

 

Root shrugged her shoulders as she took a bite of her food. She chewed slowly as she considered her answer. “Maybe something was calling me back.”

 

“I never took you for one to buy into all that metaphysical crap.”

 

“Let’s just say I’ve come to accept that there is a higher power in play.”

 

“If you start talking about finding Jesus…”

 

“Not at all.” Root leaned closer to her. “But I’m sure I could give you a reason to call out to god.” Shaw just stared blankly at her and then after a moment began sawing into her stack of pancakes. “I didn’t hear a no,” Root quipped. When the garnish from Shaw’s plate smacked her in the forehead she decided to tone it down for a moment and focus on her own breakfast.

 

Root was halfway through her omelet when three loud beeps sounded in her ear. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. She looked at Shaw rolling her eyes exaggeratedly, “Work, I have to take this.” She pushed her plate over to her. “Finish that for me? I loathe cold eggs.”

 

Shaw grunted around her mouth full of food and pulled Root’s plate closer to her.

 

Root found a deserted corner of the lobby. “I’m ready,” She announced. The Machine began playing a recording.

 

“Has the number been confirmed?”

 

“They’ve settled on a target. Name’s Jarimski. Catalyst Indigo thinks he’s attempting to build a bomb, with help from the local fertilizer plant owner. No insight on his target.” The man took a breath, “They’re going in tonight for corroborating evidence and will neutralize both targets on confirmation.”

 

“We’ll move on all four tonight.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“Get your team together. We’ll be in contact with your orders for sanitation.”

 

Root was silent for a moment while The Machine relayed instructions in her ear. She pulled out her phone again. “Root,” Reese answered briskly.

 

“Seems our rats are making their move on Shaw and Cole tonight.”

 

“What’s the plan?”

 

“Stay on Cole for now. Keep an ear on their communications, Sameen is going to be on her own for a bit.” The Machine would be listening as well but they could never be too careful and Root didn’t want to take any chances with Sameen’s life.

 

“You’re not staying with Shaw?”

 

“Unless plans change she should be safe for now.” Hence why she needed Reese to monitor their communications. “I need to run a few errands before tonight.” A gathering of this nature required the proper party favors.

 

“Understood.”

 

Her chest felt tight as Root made her way back to Shaw. Their little charade was coming to an end. She smiled wistfully. It had been fun while it lasted.

 

“Sorry, Sweetie. Gotta go,” Root sighed when she reached the table. “Work’s hopeless without me around. Have to take a conference call in my room.” She licked her bottom lip, “See you tonight?”

 

“Actually, ah,” Shaw began, “I’m not going to make it tonight. I got called in to work too. Have to catch an early flight out.”

 

“Oh that’s a real shame,” Root mock pouted. “I was going to ask you for a dance.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Like I’d ever dance in public with you.”

 

“Stranger things have happened.” Root dug into her messenger bag and pulled out a business card. She held the small rectangle out to Shaw. “My number.” In actuality it was an answering service The Machine had set up for Thornhill. Still she’d receive any message on the wild chance Shaw actually called once this was all over. “If you’re ever in New York, look me up?”

 

Shaw stared at the card for a moment before gingerly taking it from her hand. “Sure. You can buy me dinner.”

 

“I know the all the best steakhouses in town,” Root smiled. It was nice to pretend for a moment that they’d get the opportunity to do something so mundane as go out to dinner together. “I’ll even spring for dessert.”

 

“I’d rather have two steaks.”

 

She lowered her voice until it was practically a purr, “You know I’d let you eat whatever you want, Sam.”

 

That earned her another, even more exaggerated, eye roll. “Just take care of yourself, okay Nerd?”

 

“I always have, Sameen.” She placed her hand on Shaw’s arm. For once she didn’t immediately shrug off the contact. “Please do the same.”

 

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Shaw scoffed. Oh how Root wished that were true.

 

“Sorry about your prom date, Shaw,” Cole said later that evening.

 

“Why?” She wondered aloud, “I didn’t even go to actual prom.” She didn’t do dances. Sam couldn’t afford to go even if she’d wanted to. Instead the two of them had driven out to Corpus and gotten plastered on the beach thanks to a couple of Sam’s fake IDs. Then in the morning when they sobered up they found a diner with all you can eat pancakes. Shaw’s mother had been livid when they got back that afternoon, but it had been worth it.

 

“You didn’t want to see Sam in a fancy dress?”

 

“This isn’t one of your little CW teen drama’s, Cole,” Shaw huffed. Though if what she wore on Friday night was any indication, Sam would be the hottest one in the room. Especially since Shaw wouldn’t be attending. She slid a bit closer to the edge of the tank she was laying on top of. She had snuck into the fertilizer plant and set up shop with a rifle on top of a tank of the finished product about an hour ago. They still had about fifteen minutes until 8pm and she had a bird’s eye view of the loading dock and Steve’s office. “We’re here to do a job, not party.”

 

Not that she’d call anything going down in the Bishop High gym a party.

 

Cole on the other hand, “Would have been nice if the job had allowed for a little more of the party is all.” He was such a sap.

 

“Why did Paula ask you to go steady?”

 

“No, but maybe I wanted to ask Sam for a dance,” He smugly replied. “We talked a bit last night at the park while you went for your tenth hamburger. I think she’s rather fond of me.”

 

Shaw snorted dismissively at that. “Sure Bert.”

 

“Chick’s dig accents.”

 

“And if that’s all it took; Sam still wouldn’t fall for yours.” That accent was that terrible. Seriously, from now on Cole stayed in the van.

 

“Jealous?”

 

Hardly. Cole wasn’t even Sam’s type. “Annoyed. It’s almost show time and you want to braid my hair and talk about boybands.”

 

“Just trying to keep things loose.” He had been nervous about their having to split up tonight. There was nothing for it though. Jarimski’s wife hadn’t left the house until late that afternoon. They needed to confirm that he was acting alone and they needed to witness the exchange for the explosive compounds before Control would give them the green light to neutralize the targets. Splitting up was the most expedient way to handle both jobs.

 

“You want me loose, give me someone to shoot.” She found the action extremely relaxing.

 

“Your wish will probably be granted soon, I’m at the house, the truck is gone.”

 

“At least the future terrorist likes to be punctual,” Shaw grumbled. “I’ll be glad when this weird number is over and done with.”

 

“We’ve dealt with weirder, Shaw.” Cole grunted as he worked on what Shaw assumed as a way into Jarimski’s home. “I mean alligator guy.”

 

“At least alligator guy wasn’t a massive game of Clue on top of the weirdness.” She could handle weird as long as it was straightforward. “Why the riddles? Why didn’t Research give us Jarimski or Steve’s number? Or the coordinates for the plant? Or anything that would have been fucking useful?”

 

“Maybe Research has a glitch,” Cole supplied. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered absentmindedly. “You ever wonder what would actually happen if they screwed up?”

 

Shaw did not like hearing that kind of talk from him. He tended to have very bad ideas when he spoke that way. “Cole, you’re thinking stupid thoughts again aren’t you?”

 

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” She actually heard him swallow. “You know I already had my concerns about Research.”

 

“Yes, I’m aware. But I also thought I had talked you out of that particularly suicidal train of thought last year.” Clandestine organizations did not like it when anyone, including their killer little worker bees, asked too many questions about operations.

 

“That was before this latest screw up.”

 

“Cole, we’ve been over this. Research doesn’t screw up.” They had been doing this for years. In all that time Research had never made a mistake. Been a little random with its information, sure, but never a mistake.

 

“But it sort of did with this weird number. What if we hadn’t figured Jarimski out?” Shaw didn’t have anything to say because they both knew the answer to that question. Boom and a lot of bodies. Cole continued on “I’ve been digging and I’m pretty sure it did with a target four months ago too.”

 

“Four,” Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re digging up ghosts from four freaking months ago?”

 

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing here Shaw. The point is some shady stuff is going on with the program.”

 

“Yeah, that was the entire point of this program. To do the shady shit the rest of the country doesn’t have the stomach for. You knew that when they recruited you.” She did not know why Cole had to go all mom’s apple pie and ice cream after years on the job.

 

“It’s one thing to take out bad people before they can hurt others. It’s a whole other thing to assassinate someone just because they knew too much.”

 

“Seriously, what the hell are you talking about?”

 

“Look all you need to know is I’ve requested a formal inquiry with Wilson. I’ll keep your name out of it. But it’s probably best if you don’t know everything if they do decide to question you.”

 

Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose. “Question me?” What the hell had he gotten her into?

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Cole, I swear to god.”

 

“It’ll be fine,” He cut her off. “We’re not the ones who screwed up.” He took a breath, “No sense worrying about it right now anyway. I’m in.”

 

Shaw switched back to business mode. “Jarimski’s home office?”

 

“Yep,” He replied popping the p. “And looks like he left his laptop. This is going to be easy.”

 

“Don’t jinx it.”

 

She heard him pounding at the keyboard. “What’s there to jinx? I’ve got his laptop. He’s already on the way to meet his supplier and your extremely large gun. Have you ever heard of overkill...”

 

“Cole,” She growled.

 

“Looks like he has been planning with someone else. Lots of emails back and forth.” He cleared his throat. “That’s weird.”

 

“See it’s starting already.” Damn laptop was probably going to have a meltdown or something out of spite, due to Cole getting cocky.

 

“Shaw, my name is on these files.”

 

“What?” Out of everything he possibly could have told her that was the least expected.

 

“Jarimski’s contact is me.” His breathing picked up, “I swear to god, Shaw I’d never even heard of this guy before this weekend.”

 

Shaw didn’t doubt him at all. Cole had too much of a conscience to turn traitor. “Get out of there.” This felt wrong. Like huge neon sign that says ‘trap’ wrong. But who was springing it on them and why?

 

“I have to figure out what’s going on. Why my name is on all this.”

 

“Fine, grab the laptop but get out of the house.”

 

“Okay, yeah,” She heard Cole’s breathing pick up as he began to move around again.

 

“Go out the back, just in case,” She instructed him.

 

“Your spider senses tingling?”

 

“Maybe.” Someone had put in the effort to set Cole up as a traitor. If it were Shaw she’d take him out right there at Jarimski’s place. Make it look like a meet up gone haywire. The guy was already planning a bombing, knocking off a collaborator wouldn’t be a stretch. “If someone else is watching the house let’s not make it easy on them.”

 

“You’ve got a poi…ooof.” It sounded like he fell.

 

“Cole? Cole are you there?” What the fuck had happened now? Had someone jumped him?

 

“Oh Jesus.”

 

“What?”

 

“It’s Jarimski.”

 

Shit. “He came back?”

 

“He never left,” Cole took a shuddering breath. “He’s dead, Shaw.”

 

She was about to reply when a U-Haul truck pulled up in front of the loading dock. Steve stepped out of his office. The driver got out of the truck and shot him before he could even ask who he was. Several men in dark tactical gear piled out of the back of the truck and spread out in an extremely familiar search pattern.

 

“Primary target is on site, search and destroy gentlemen.” Why did she get the feeling he was talking about her?

 

She focused in on the speaker. Shaw could bust his head like a grape with one tiny squeeze of her trigger finger. But the other six guys would surely return fire. She bit her lip. One round penetrating the tank she was lying on and she’d have a front row seat for the county’s biggest and baddest roman candle. Not worth it for only one kill.

 

Shaw got up and scrambled towards the stairs. “Get out now. When we’re done talking ditch your earwig. Meet me at the emergency evac point.” They’d never discussed their exit strategy on the comm. It should be safe even if their transmissions had been monitored. Which was looking more and more likely by the minute.

 

“Shaw, what’s going on?”

 

“I’ve got company.” She tried to keep low as she sprinted across the catwalk. So far no one had thought to look up. “Armed company. They just took out Steve, and now pretty sure they’re looking for me.”

 

“I can get to you.”

 

“You do what I told you to do,” She snapped. “If I’m not there in three hours get out of town and go dark.”

 

“Be safe, Sam.”

 

She ripped the comm from her ear and threw it down on to the metal grate. She had to get out of here and she had to be quick about it. Shaw paused when she reached the top of the stairs. They led down into a completely open area. No cover. Plenty of open sightlines from the loading dock. She’d never make it that way. She glanced around. She needed another route.

 

A set of pipes overhead caught her attention. It looked like they were used to transfer the chemicals from the tanks to the loading area. They were about the thickness of her thigh and were bound together four across. “Should be enough to hold my weight.” She could climb on to the pipes and soar over the search team. Drop down into the loading dock and steal their truck.

 

Shaw climbed on to the railing lining the catwalk and then with a hop and a pull up hauled herself on to the set of pipes. She remained in place for a moment to make sure they would hold her weight. Once she was certain that they would, Shaw began crawling in the direction she had just come from. She could hear faint footfalls below as the men continued searching for her. “Losers.”

 

Her gloating was short lived as the loading dock came into view. There was one man patrolling the space between the tanks and Steve’s office. Shaw scowled. They’d left someone to guard the truck. Damn, not as moronic as she thought. Well, Shaw would just have to take him out without alerting the others to her position. Piece of cake.

 

The pipes she was on continued across the area leading to a much smaller tank and a set of hoses. In order to make it to the tank, they dropped down several feet. Which meant Shaw could jump off of them presumably without breaking a leg. Breaking someone else’s however…

 

She waited until the man was almost underneath the section of pipe she was waiting on. She lowered herself to the underside of the pipes hanging on with her legs and arms. When his shoulders were parallel to her position, Shaw swung out with her legs and let go of the pipes to let herself fall. Her feet hit the operative in his shoulders. Momentum enabled her to ride him the rest of the way to the ground. His face hit the concrete floor with a wet crack. She planted her left knee into the center of his back and wrapped an arm around his throat. In his stunned state he barely struggled as she choked him out. That’s one.

 

She pulled a transceiver out of his ear and stuck it into her own. Team two was apparently having difficulty finding their target. At least Cole was having better luck than she was.

 

Shaw slowly stood up. Whoever these guys were they were organized and solidly equipped. Possibly government. She didn’t want to think too deeply about the implications of that specific possibility. She needed to get out of here and regroup with Cole. She started towards the truck. She was halfway there when another man stepped out of the back. They had left someone in the truck like a low rent Trojan horse. “She’s over here!”

 

Three more men came running out as well. Tricky little bastards had set a trap and she’d been dumb enough to wander right into it. Son of a bitch.

 

Shaw opened fire even as she dove behind a stack of metal barrels. She heard a shout, then the sound of a body hitting the ground. That’s two. She stuck her head out of cover to confirm but immediately ducked down as a spray of automatic fire filled the air. She waited a beat after it stopped, and then she fired again. After four rounds, she stood and sprinted towards the back of the plant.

 

A wave of gunfire followed in her wake. Shells bounced and cracked against the floor and some of the pipes. Morons were going to blow the place all to hell with one bad shot. She increased her speed, she had to get out of here before that happened.

 

Shaw made it another fifteen or so feet before it suddenly felt like someone took a baseball bat to her side. She was hit. Shaw grit her teeth and kept moving for new cover. At this rate she was going to be overrun when she ran out of bullets or bleed out in a corner of this stupid shit factory. She rolled her eyes. The irony, coming back to this dumb town only to be buried here forever.

 

She crouched behind a mass of pipes. Shaw slid a hand down her side and around to her back. No exit wound. She grunted as she prodded the entry point just above her hip. It wasn’t in an ideal location. Deep breath. Alright, sit rep. She had a bullet in her side. Caught between two teams of heavily armed uglies sweeping this place looking for her. Add in a bunch of chemical tanks that could go boom with a stray bullet. She checked her pockets. One extra mag for her USP and her fully loaded backup piece tucked into her boot.

 

She took a deep breath. In through her nose. Held it for a second in the lungs and then out through the mouth. She had memorized the floor plan that afternoon. She was about fifty feet from the dock give or take and on the west side of the plant. There was an emergency exit just about every fifty feet along the far wall. She could make it to one of those doors.

 

She peered around the pipes. No one was in sight. She stood up and began to move towards the wall. Suddenly, she heard a clank. She spun about but no one was in view. But was the air hazy? Shaw looked around. Had one of those assholes managed to start a fire? She didn’t see any signs of fire other than a steady stream of smoke. She followed it with her eyes to its source.

 

Shaw cocked her head to the side. Were those smoke canisters? The hell was going on?

 

She heard someone moving behind her. She turned and blindly fired, in the hope that it would ward them off long enough for her to get to a new hiding spot or better yet an exit. Shaw pulled the collar of her hoodie up to cover her nose and mouth and turned to run.

 

She had made it about five feet when something hit her in the side of her neck. Shaw slid her free hand up and yanked a small dart from her skin. “The fuck?” Her eyes began to roll in to the back of her head as she toppled to the concrete floor. Just before she passed out she saw a pair of black high heeled boots stepping into view.

 

“You alright?” Reese asked Root a short time later when he called to check in. They had continued their plan of divide and conquer. He had tailed Cole while she had dealt with Sameen.

 

“She managed to tag me. Through the smoke even.” Root let out a little sigh, “She’s really quite skilled.”

 

“Save the gushing for later, Root.”

 

“I don’t gush.” Much. But honestly she couldn’t help herself. Shaw was attractive enough already. Seeing her face down an entire team of government agents sent to kill her was a sight unmatched by anyone else who had ever so briefly caught Root’s eye. She wanted to climb that woman like a tree, a tiny, angry tree.

 

“Right.” Reese was skeptical of her as always.

 

Time for a change of subject. There were still dangerous men roaming the streets. “And Cole?”

 

“He got out of the house and made for the Second Baptist Church on Spring Road.”

 

“Good sightlines, multiple entrances and exits, not far from the old highway,” Root noted. “Clever.” She was sure Sameen had picked it out.

 

“Two men followed him at first but I intervened.”

 

Goodbye kneecaps hello local ER. The helper monkey was consistent in the very least. “And now?”

 

“Things look clear. I’m across the street from his position. No one’s so much as driven past here for half an hour at least.”

 

“They certainly sent a lot of manpower after our little lambs.” From the transmissions She was still monitoring, at least four squads were in town. Sameen and to a lesser extent Cole, they had only sent two men for him after all, really ranked.  

 

“Cole’s request for an inquiry must have sent his higher ups into an apocalyptic fit.”

 

“Or they simply understand Shaw’s well-earned reputation,” Root sighed, she found that was sexy too.

 

“You sounding so smitten is deeply troubling by the way.”

 

“And yet you keep calling attention to it. Jealous Lurch?”

 

“Horrified.”

 

Root opened her mouth to level him with a particularly cutting reply when she heard a groan from behind her. “Gotta go, Sleeping Beauty awakes.”

 

“Be careful, cornered animals are the most dangerous.”

 

“When am I ever careful?” Root signed off with a chuckle. Besides, she rather enjoyed dangerous.

 

“What the hell?” Shaw hissed through her teeth. She’d come to sooner than Root had expected. She just kept right on surprising her and surpassing every single expectation.

 

“Sorry, Sweetie,” Root replied stepping into view. “But I didn’t know how you’d react to my bringing you here.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “We didn’t have time for a polite invitation.”

 

“You’re a freaking terrorist?” Shaw yanked at her restraints again. The way her forearms flexed and strained against her bonds was a charming image. Oh if only it were under better circumstances.

 

“No, of course not,” Root scoffed in an attempt to regain a modicum of her composure. “I’m sort of a vigilante.”

 

Shaw blinked at her. “Great you managed to give me brain damage. I thought you just said you’re a vigilante?”

 

Her confused face was so adorable. Root grinned proudly at her, “I did. I am.”

 

Shaw laughed. A rare honest to god, full on from the belly laugh. Root smiled indulgently at the sound. It was something to savor despite the circumstances. “I’m dead right? That idiot in Chicago shanked me or something and this has all been some random fever dream on my way to hell.”

 

“When did you get so dramatic?”

 

“Okay Sam, I don’t know what you’re on or what kind of freaky shit you’re in to. Not judging,” She nodded to the zip ties, “Normally, I kind of enjoy this sort of thing.” Well, Root was certainly delighted to hear that. So many delicious possibilities to consider. “But I was in the middle of something important.”

 

“Stopping a couple of would-be terrorists from turning a moving truck into a mobile bomb,” Root nodded. “Well, before your employer murdered them both and then sicked that squad of goons on you.” She flipped her hair, “Honestly, you’d think the ISA would know to send better trained lackeys after the likes of Catalyst Indigo 5A. You’ve never failed to bring down a target in all these years.”

 

“How do you know that name?” Her jaw tensed. She jerked against the zip ties again. The metal chair sort of groaned under the strain of her efforts but everything held. Good thing Root had doubled up on the ties. When Shaw figured out that she wasn’t going to snap them on her own she looked up, “How do you know any of that?”

 

“It’s my job to know,” Root smiled at her. “I have to say if I weren’t already a fan, after reading your file, I sure would be.”

 

“Are you seriously flirting with me right now?”

 

“Why not?” Root shrugged. “I believe in seizing the day, Sameen. I was given a mission. Step one was saving you. Why not multitask?”

 

“If you really read my file,” Shaw pursed her lips as if she didn’t totally believe it possible, “Then you know I don’t need saving.”

 

“Oh sure, but I don’t think anyone told those guys who were after you.”

 

Shaw closed her eyes and puffed out a frustrated breath. “Let’s start again.”

 

“Whatever you’d like, Sweetie.”

 

“Those guys at the fertilizer plant were government agents.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“They weren’t just after Shitty Steve, but me as well.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You, by yourself, got into the plant without them or I noticing.” Root nodded. Like that was hard? Honestly, she could have broken in there when they were teenagers had she ever been struck with the impulse. “Lobbed in those smoke canisters. Hit me with a tranq.”

 

“You almost shot me first,” Root added turning so Shaw had a clear view of the bandage wrapped around her right bicep. “Put a hole right through the sleeve of my favorite leather jacket. Tiny bit inconsiderate.”

 

“If you got hit you got shot, no almost about it,” She countered. Root rolled her eyes, Sameen focused on the strangest things. “So I shot you and then you hit me with a tranq. And then with government agents still searching for me, you dragged my unconscious ass out of there. Because you’re a vigilante?”

 

Root nodded before adding, “And you’re my mission.”

 

Shaw stared at her with a completely blank expression for a moment, before shaking her head. “Samantha Groves, you are still the craziest person I have ever met.”

 

“Does that include alligator guy?”

 

“How do you know about alligator guy?”

 

“I read your file silly,” Root explained as if it were obvious. “And my friend may have bugged Cole’s rental car.” She pulled a knife out of her pocket and flicked it open. “Though I’d love to hear your version of that story someday.”

 

Root stepped over to the chair. “Now that we’ve come to an understanding, I’m going to cut you loose.” Shaw stiffened as she knelt by her side and held the knife up. She carefully slid the blade under the ties wrapped around Shaw’s left wrist. The blade was so sharp the plastic gave way under a minimum of pressure. Then she flipped the knife around in her hand, until she was holding the blade between her thumb and forefinger. She held it out to Shaw, “Sign of trust.”

 

“Trust is overrated.” She looked between the blade and Root. “Do you know what I could do to you with that knife?”

 

“I can imagine.” Root shivered, but she wasn’t at all afraid. “But again I’d love to hear your version someday.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes but took the knife from her hand. It was quick work to free her right wrist. She then folded the blade and stuck the closed knife into the top of her left boot. “Okay Sam, what’s your angle here?”

 

“I already told you,” She breezily replied as she stood back up. “By the way I don’t go by Samantha or Sam anymore. Call me Root.”

 

“Seriously?” Shaw rubbed her wrist where the zip tie had cut a little furrow into her skin.

 

“You don’t like it?”

 

“It’s kinda lame. Honestly, you used to type it in when you got the high score in video games.”

 

“Rude,” Root pouted.

 

Shaw shrugged, “I liked Sam.” She’d be the only one.

 

“You’ll love Root.”

 

Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. After a moment she looked up at Root with narrowed eyes. “So what’s the deal, you and Bruce Wayne go out and stop bad guys?”

 

“If anything he’s the sidekick,” Root countered. She tapped a black nailed finger against her lips, “Though my legs would look better in tiny green shorts.” Shaw stared at her utterly unamused. Tough crowd. “She gives us a number. Someone to save or someone to stop. We do what’s necessary based on the circumstances.”

 

“She?”

 

“You call her Research.”

 

“There’s no way Research is one person.”

 

“Of course not,” Root agreed. “She’s an Artificial Super Intelligence.” Shaw blinked at her. “A friend of mine created a machine twelve years ago that could predict terrible things before they happened. Everything from the sad sack on the corner plotting to kill his wife for the insurance money, to a bunch of foreign nationals building a dirty bomb in Berlin.” Root quirked an eyebrow as a spark of recognition flashed in Shaw’s eyes at that little tidbit. “The government only cared about the big dogs. They created a project codenamed Northern Lights to use the intel She provided to eliminate threats to national security.”

 

“The ISA.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“And what, you run around taking care of the insurance fraud cases?”

 

“Sometimes,” Root leaned down to look her in the eyes, “And sometimes I get to save super-hot secret agents whose partners started asking too many questions.”

 

“Cole? They’re doing this because of Cole.”

 

“Best we figure, his request for an inquiry pissed off the wrong people in the chain of command. You’re just collateral damage.”

 

“If they’re after Cole why are you wasting time with me?”

 

“Relax. My associate is looking after Cole.” Root gestured to Shaw’s bloody hoody resting on a rolling cart just to her left. “I had to get you somewhere safe to patch you up.” Shaw looked as if she had completely forgotten she had been shot until that moment. She pulled up her tank top to check her wound. Root smiled as the patch of clean white gauze was revealed. Shaw hadn’t managed to tear any stitches thrashing about earlier. “Gut shots, nasty things.”

 

“Yeah, not my first one,” Shaw muttered as she peeled back the top corner of the dressing. Her eyes narrowed as she examined Root’s handiwork. “Your stitches aren’t terrible.” She slapped the gauze back into place and looked up at her with a quirked brow. “Have much practice performing field surgery in your line of work?”

 

“A little,” Root hummed. “You should see my scars.”

 

“That an invitation?”

 

“For whenever you’d like.”

 

Shaw stood up. “So all this flirting is it genuine or part of the mission?” She rolled her neck and shoulders.

 

Root watched the play of muscles utterly transfixed for a moment. “Which would you like it to be?” She licked her lips, “I know my preference but you’ve already had a rough night.”

 

“I like rough.” Shaw strolled over to where Root was standing.

 

“Do you really?”

 

Shaw didn’t reply immediately. Opting to look around the room instead. “We’re safe here? You weren’t followed?”

 

“Please,” Root scoffed. “By those amateurs?”

 

“This place is completely secure?” Shaw stepped right into Root’s personal space. “You’re sure of it?”

 

“Absolutely,” Root smiled.

 

“Good.” Shaw punched her in the face. Root fell to the ground in a heap. Shaw crouched down and took her gun from her waistband. “Sorry, Root. I’ve got a mission to finish.” She carefully rolled Root onto her side and into the recovery position. She stood up, grabbed her hoodie from the cart, and without looking back, sprinted out the door.

 

The first thing Shaw did was find a car to hotwire. Unfortunately, given modern advancements in alarm systems, that meant that the car she selected was kind of a piece of junk. It also meant that it’s owner couldn’t afford to keep much gas in it. Of course Root had set up in an abandoned home on the completely opposite end of town from where she needed to be. Needless to say the indicator was floating barely above empty when she pulled her borrowed ride into the church parking lot.

 

Shaw kept her head on a swivel as she made her way to the front of the recreation building. They had agreed that should they become separated and need to evacuate that they would meet there. She paused when she reached the double doors leading out to the parking lot. They were the kind that opened with a card reader. You waved the proper ID in front of a scanner and the locks released. The scanner’s indicator light was out. Shaw lightly pulled on the door handle. It was unlocked.

 

The fellowship hall was a wide open space about the size of a basketball court one and a half times over. They must have had a pot luck or something recently because the room was full of round tables. The big kind you could seat between eight and ten people around. In the middle of all of them sat Cole with his head in his hands.

 

“Come on,” She called out to him. “Get your stuff and let’s go.”

 

His head snapped up. “Shaw?” He was looking at her like he thought he’d never see her again. God he was such a freaking sap.

 

“Get up. I didn’t see the car out front.” She pointed back towards the doors. “I stole one but it’s almost out of gas.”

 

“I didn’t bring it,” Cole replied. “Figured if someone was after us they’d be looking for it.”

 

That was actually smart. Still wouldn’t get them very far though. “I guess we’re hitchhiking.” Shaw released a frustrated breath. “Come on. We have to go. Now.”

 

“What about the number? Do you know who killed Jarimski? Do you know why my name was on those files? Where have you been?”

 

“Cole,” Shaw hissed through clenched teeth. “We do not have time for twenty questions.” She heard the squeal of tires out front. She drew her gun, “We don’t even have time for two questions.”

 

She rushed to the door and eased it open just wide enough that she could peer out into the parking lot. A black sedan was idling next to the car she had driven in the otherwise empty lot. A man in dark clothing was standing next to the car speaking into a cell phone. Running the plates, she assumed. She watched as he waved to the driver who turned off the car and got out. A passenger got out of the back seat as well. The pair of them walked around to the trunk.

 

“Go for a flashlight,” She whispered. “Go for a flashlight.” The men opened the trunk blocking what they were doing from her view. After a beat they closed it again. They were now holding AR-15s. “Shit,” Shaw swore and stepped away from the doors. “How do I lock the door?”

 

“You don’t,” Cole replied. “I fried the locking mechanism to get in.”

 

Crap. A flag stand caught her eye. She grabbed the wooden pole with the state flag of Texas and jammed the thing into the two door handles. It would probably only delay the inevitable for half a second but every second counted in a firefight.

 

She sprinted back to Cole. “Looks like the party found us.” She quickly flipped one of the tables onto its side for cover. Not that it would do much against automatic rounds.

 

Cole quickly flipped a table near him as well. “How?”

 

“I don’t…” Shaw’s eyes narrowed as she caught sight of a laptop sitting open on another one of the tables. “Tell me you didn’t just start that thing up again.”

 

Cole’s eyes widened as he caught her meaning. “You don’t think they’re tracing it somehow? I didn’t even connect it to Wi-Fi.”

 

Wasn’t he supposed to be the tech expert? “They went to the trouble to set you up with it,” Shaw snarled. “It’s not outside the realm of possibility they’d want it back.”

 

He went pale. “Crap.”

 

“At least tell me you hung on to your gun and didn’t trade it for some magic beans?” He nodded and held it up in a white knuckled grip. You could tell the guy hadn’t been in a real firefight in a few years.

 

They heard a series of shots from outside. Either the engine block or the tires of that heap she’d stolen, Shaw wagered. “When they come in stay down. I’ll draw their fire and when they’re focused on me you get them from the flank.”

 

“Draw their fire how, Shaw? You’re not bulletproof.”

 

There was a clank as someone pulled on the doors from outside. The flagpole held the doors closed for the moment. Shaw fired. They heard a shout from outside. She smirked as she ducked underneath one of the tables, figuring the one on its side would draw the men’s attention as obvious cover. “If you have a better plan, you have about thirty seconds to share it.”

 

Cole opened his mouth to reply when more gunfire sounded out. This time it was far closer. Bullet after bullet slammed through the doors. He hit the floor on his belly. Shaw crouched under the tables. When the shots from outside ceased, Shaw returned fire with a few warning shots of her own.

 

The left door swung open on its hinges. No one came through it however. Shaw peered out of cover just in time to see a black cylinder roll into the room.

 

“Flash bang,” She shouted before she crouched down to shield her eyes and ears. The device went off. Shaw’s ears rang even with her attempts to shield them. Two men charged through the door. She fired, managing to hit the one holding the automatic in the chest. The second man turned and shot at her with a .45.

 

Shaw rolled to the side. The table near where her head had just been splintered. Cole popped out of cover and picked off the shooter with a clean shot to the head. “You alright?” Shaw stood and glanced towards the doors.

 

“Peachy,” Cole replied as he walked towards her. He glanced out of the door on his way across the room. “Looks clear.”

 

Shaw canted her head in thought, “Where’s the other one?”

 

“What other one?”

 

“There were three.”

 

“Think you got him with that first shot?”

 

“Or he could have gone around back.” Shaw turned to look in that direction. That’s what she would have done. Divide and conquer and all that. She had started to walk that way when Cole pushed her down just before a line of automatic fire ripped through the space she had just been occupying. Shaw returned fire from the ground. Her shots hit the last man in the legs. He fell and she put a bullet into his head.

 

“So you didn’t get him.”

 

“No, really?” Shaw snapped. “You can get off of me now.”

 

“That might be an issue,” Cole groaned. “I got tagged.”

 

Shit. “Where?”

 

“Right shoulder, left hip.” He grunted, she could hear the undercurrent of pain in his voice. “Good thing bullets make me do the twist huh?”

 

“Idiot.” Shaw carefully rolled him off of her. She couldn’t see any exits wounds, which meant the bullets could have done all kinds of internal damage. She briefly put her head on his chest to listen to his breathing. It didn’t sound like anything hit his lungs. She began to palpate his ribs. “Was playing the hero worth it?”

 

“I’ll tell you if I live through this.”

 

“Oh you’ll live,” She promised him. “I have to kick your ass for dropping me in this pile of shit. Wouldn’t be fair to do it if you’re not at one hundred percent.”

 

“Also more embarrassing that way.”

 

“Exactly,” Her lips ticked up in a little grin. She grabbed the hem of his shirt. She carefully unbuttoned it and then twisted it over his bad shoulder and off of his body leaving him in his bloody undershirt. She pulled the knife she got from Root and cut the fabric into a few strips. “Gonna have to wrap the wounds over your clothes. Don’t have time for much else. We still have to move.”

 

After applying her makeshift field dressings, she helped him to rise. She left him leaning against a table as she went and shoved the laptop closed, somehow it had miraculously not been shot all to hell. Then she tossed it back into a pack she recognized as Cole’s. She slung that over her shoulder. “Think you can walk?”

 

Cole shook his head. He slumped against the table. “I can’t put pressure on my left leg at all. Feels like claws are ripping into my hip. Flaming ones.”

 

“Alright,” Shaw stepped beside him and ducked under his left arm. “Lean on me. We’ll go out the back. Find a car.”

 

“I can’t let you do that,” A voice announced. Shaw looked up to see two more men standing near the back of the hall. Damnit. She really should have checked the back. Sloppy. “Drop the gun,” The same voice directed her.

 

“You’ll shoot us either way,” She sneered raising her own weapon. “If I die here it’s gonna be with a gun in my hand.” And I’ll shoot at least one of you before you get me.

 

“Suit yourself Agent Shaw.”

 

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Cole whispered. She didn’t say anything, not wanting to waste her last breath on a platitude that she wouldn’t mean. This shit was totally his fault. Well-meaning, noble jackass.

 

Shots rang out. It took Shaw half a second to realize that they had come from behind the two men. In the next half second it clicked that they were now laying on the ground clutching wounded knees. Root’s bodyguard stepped out of the darkness behind the fallen men. He quickly kicked their guns out of reach.

 

Threats neutralized for the moment, the man in the suit turned to Shaw with his hands in the air. “My name is John Reese. I’m friends with Root. Please don’t shoot me.”

 

“Who’s Root?” Cole looked between the man and Shaw. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

 

Reese smirked, “Shaw does.”

 

“And Shaw told her she doesn’t need saving.” Reese didn’t say anything to that. But he did pointedly glance at the two bodies on the floor. “I would have had that,” Shaw grumbled. At least one of them.

 

“Sure,” Reese lowered his arms. He didn’t holster his weapon though, Shaw noted. “Any thoughts on how you’re going to get the two of you out of here?”

 

“Like I’m going to tell you our exit strategy,” Shaw scoffed. Or announce it to the two losers bleeding all over the floor.

 

“Meaning you don’t have a clear one.”

 

She helped Cole to sit down. She wasn’t going to hold his heavy ass up if they were having girl talk. “It’s continuously evolving.”

 

“You’re winging it,” Reese smugly translated.

 

Shaw spun around to glare at him. “Hey, I didn’t ask for your judgmental ass to help us.”

 

“But you clearly need it.”

 

“So what’s your plan?” Cole asked in a blatant attempt to defuse the situation before Shaw’s trigger finger got itchy again.

 

“We tie those two up. Then cut through the Sanctuary. Out the office on the other side and into the woods. There’s a neighborhood on the other side of those where we can get a car.”

 

“Afraid that’s not going to work Johnny Boy.” Shaw turned to see Root seemingly appear out of the shadows. What was with these people and dramatic entrances? Was it part of the vigilante handbook, creep up and quip?

 

“Root,” Reese inclined his head in greeting. “Know something I don’t?”

 

“Enough to fill volumes,” She retorted. “Shaw’s simply far too popular.” She daintily sidestepped one of the guys Shaw had taken out earlier on the floor. “These idiots were just the advanced scouts. There’s a couple of SUVs full of guys just waiting to fill up her dance card three minutes out.”

 

“Great,” Shaw grumbled. She supposed she should be flattered that they felt the need to send several teams to kill them. She moved to try and re-secure the open doors.

 

“It’s a lost cause, Sweetie,” Root chided her.

 

“We probably should move to the sanctuary,” Reese said wrapping an arm around Cole’s waist and helping him to rise to his feet. “We can at least barricade ourselves in. Make a stand there.”

 

Before Shaw could make a move towards bringing his suggestion into action Root caught her arm. “You punched me,” She pouted.

 

“You tranqued me like an animal,” Shaw countered, yanking out of her grasp.

 

Root stepped into her personal space. “Because I was trying to save your life.”

 

Shaw didn’t budge, glaring up at her. “And I was trying to save Cole’s.” And the entire point of knocking her out was to leave her crazy ass somewhere safe, keep her out of their mess. Yet here she was complaining about it. Ingrate.

 

“I told you Reese was handling it.” Root edged that much closer.

 

Shaw took half a step of her own. Any nearer and they’d be pressed hip to hip. “Excuse me for not knowing if I could trust you or your barely socialized guard dog.” Or wanting to protect you.

 

“You’ve always been able to trust me, Sameen.”

 

“Can the two of you argue later?” Reese grumbled. “Your friend is busy bleeding out.”

 

“I’m bleeding out?” Cole yelped.

 

“Don’t be a baby,” Shaw growled as she stomped over to them. She checked the wounds. They were obviously in need of better tending and soon but he wasn’t exactly at death’s door just yet. She put Cole’s left arm over her shoulders and nodded to Reese. “Let’s get him moved.”

 

They quickly relocated into the church proper. Root trailed behind them, locking the door between the rec center and the rest of the building once they were inside. Reese and Shaw settled Cole on to one of the front pews.

 

Once he was settled, Shaw popped the mag from her gun. Just a few rounds left. She should have checked Root for her backup piece when she knocked her out. As if reading her mind, a pale hand appeared in her line of sight holding said weapon. Shaw took it from a smiling Root. “Oh one more party favor.” He handed Shaw an extra magazine for her gun.

 

“What about you?” Shaw asked, concerned despite her lingering ire at the woman. She tucked her backup into her boot and slid the extra ammo into her back pocket.

 

Root pulled two guns from the small of her back. Shaw sneered at her, “Two guns at once? That’s kind of lame.” What did she think this was, some John Chow movie? If she held either one sideways Shaw swore to god she’d punch Root again.

 

The other woman cocked her head to the side, “Backup’s here.”

 

Shaw clicked the safety on her gun, “How many?”

 

“It’s fine, Sam. The church’s security system is wireless, with cameras in the parking lot. I’ve got this.”

 

She had no idea what cameras had to do with anything but, “It’s an ISA tack team.” She heard car doors opening. “You don’t got this, Nerd.” At least not by herself. Shaw looked at the big guy, Reese, to back her up. But he didn’t seem concerned either focused instead on wrapping a belt over the wound on Cole’s hip. So the guy was a crap bodyguard and partner? Great.

 

Root smirked. “Trust me,” She sing songed. She stepped towards the front doors. The multi-colored stained glass panels were probably beautiful in the daylight but now they muddled everything. You could see shapes but not distinct forms. It was great for cover seeing as anyone on the opposite side would have the same issue, but no so great for their sight lines.

 

Before Shaw could comment about finding a better vantage point, Root started firing. Gun up, Shaw rushed to stand beside her. She still couldn’t see outside clearly but it didn’t seem to deter Root at all. She fired round after round, minutely adjusting her aim after each shot.

 

When her guns were nearly empty, Root stopped firing. Shaw peered out the now shattered windows. A bunch of men in tactical gear were littering the street outside of the church, clutching various wounds. No one was left standing outside. She blinked. “Okay, that was kind of hot.”

 

Root turned and smirked at her. “She says we’ve got a five-minute window before they reconfigure their satellite and can map this area from the air. There’s a van we can hotwire parked round back.”

 

“Wait, we’re just going to run and hide?”

 

“We need to know who’s responsible for issuing the kill order on the two of you.”

 

“I know exactly who it was.” She was going to hand Wilson his own ass on a silver platter for this.

 

“Unless he’s a doctor we need to get you and your friend out of here now,” Reese grumbled. Seriously, did the guy ever speak above a whisper?

 

She glanced at Cole. He was pale and sweaty. The makeshift bandage on his shoulder was spotted with crimson. He needed blood and a proper patch job fast. “Fine,” She huffed. “Lead the way.”

 

“Chin up kids,” Root merrily instructed them. “As usual She’s thought of everything.” She practically skipped through the back of the church. “I’m driving by the way. And Sameen is riding shotgun, Lurch,” And with that she was through the doors and out of sight.

 

Reese looked at a glowering Shaw, “You’ll get used to that.” He leaned down to help Cole to stand.

 

“Does it get any less annoying?” She asked as she moved to help.

 

“No.”

 

Root stopped the van at a small complex on the outskirts of town. Shaw grinned when she realized what the place was. “The owner is on vacation for the next week. I dropped by this afternoon so the security system won’t be an issue. None of the staff are due to check in for another two days.”

 

“This will work,” Shaw nodded unbuckling her seatbelt. She scrambled between the seats to help the big guy move Cole out of the van.

 

“A vet’s office?” Cole grunted as they carried him from the van.

 

“Gift horses, partner,” Shaw growled in reply. They hurried to the doors. Root pulled a lock pick from the inside of her jacket and with a couple of twists was waving them through the open door. They quickly cut through the reception area and into the back.

 

Shaw checked three doors before waving Reese into a large examination room. “This must be where they work on the larger breeds.”

 

“Seriously?” Cole whined.

 

“Look, it’s got serviceable medical equipment and no one is going to think to look for us here.” They’d be checking hospitals, free clinics, maybe even pharmacies. This place would definitely do the job for the night.

 

“What are we going to do about our blood issue?” He coughed. “I’m not the doctor, but I know I’m going to need a transfusion. I doubt they have B-neg here.”

 

“Won’t be an issue,” Reese answered as he helped Cole lay down on a stainless steel table in the middle of the room. Cole’s ankles hung a little bit over the edge of it, but he could lay flat, which was all Shaw needed to get to work. “Root’s on it.”

 

Shaw realized then that the other woman hadn’t followed them inside. “What? On her own?” There were probably still search teams out there. If they stumbled across her…

 

“Trust me, Root can handle herself.”

 

Shaw took a breath. She had decided to go along this far. “Fine,” She huffed. She nodded towards the bank of cabinets behind Reese. “See what equipment you can find. I’ll especially need a suture kit, sterile dressings, and forceps.” He nodded and moved to quickly follow orders.

 

Shaw left the room and went back into the hallway. Two doors down she discovered a supply room. In the back corner she found what she was looking for, the drug cabinet. Her jaw tensed when she noticed the electronic lock on it however. She started looking for something to smash the glass front open when the lock emitted a loud beep. The door then popped open a crack. “And the weirdness just keeps coming.” She pulled the door fully open and began to dig around inside.

 

She strolled back into the exam room where she had left the guys a few minutes later. “You’re in luck, Cole. They had horse tranquilizers.”

 

“Awesome,” He groaned.

 

“While I’m at it I can de-worm you as well,” She quipped as she prepped a syringe for him. He’d be feeling no pain very soon.

 

Cole rolled his head to the side to look at Reese with imploring eyes, “For the love of god make sure she doesn’t neuter me for fun.”

 

“You’d have to still have balls for that,” Shaw snarked.

 

Reese ignored them both nodding to the tray of surgical instruments he had cobbled together for Shaw. “This everything you need?”

 

She gave it a brief perusal. He’d found everything she’d need plus a few extras. “That’ll do.” She refocused on Cole. “I’m going to hit you with the good stuff and then patch you up. You’ll probably be out the rest of the night.”

 

“Don’t get shot in the interim.”

 

“I don’t make any promises,” She replied. Reese handed her an alcohol swab. There hadn’t been any on the tray. She didn’t ask where he found it. She ran the disinfectant over the skin of Cole’s elbow. “You know the drill. Start counting backwards.” She injected him with the drug.

 

“One, two, three…”

 

The first bullet came out easily. Which meant of course the second one was a little bitch. It took Shaw far longer than she would have liked to dig it out of Cole’s hip. Damn thing had shredded on impact. She’d have to run an x-ray to be sure but she felt like she eventually got all the fragments out. She was just closing up when they heard movement from the reception area.

 

Reese pulled his gun and put himself between Cole and the doorway. Shaw paused in her suturing to palm one of the scalpels. “Honeys I’m home,” A familiar voice called out. Reese immediately relaxed. Shaw remained tense. She had heard two sets of footsteps. Root wasn’t alone.

 

“I ditched the van four blocks over,” Root announced as she stepped into the room. She dragged a slender, Hispanic man in after her by the arm.

 

“Thought this was a private party,” Shaw drawled. Though she did relax enough to put the scalpel aside and return to closing Cole’s wound.

 

“This is Gabriel, Gabe for short.” Root shoved the man forward. “He’s a universal donor.” Reese took him by the elbow and guided him to a rolling office chair. Once Gabe practically collapsed into it, Reese pushed it to the side of the table.

 

“You kidnapped a guy to force him to give blood?” Root shrugged in reply, as if it was normal operating procedure for her. Shaw grinned, “Nice.”

 

Root beamed at her response. “So transfusion kit is where?”

 

“I haven’t checked all the drawers,” She waved a bloody hand in the air, “Little busy.”

 

“Oh I wasn’t talking to you, Sweetie.” She cocked her head to the side. “Third drawer on the left. Thanks.” She glided over to the drawer in question and began pulling out equipment. “Now Gabe, stay still like a good boy and you’ll only be out about a pint when this is all over.”

 

An hour later everyone was patched up. Reese had offered to take watch on the front door. Root assured him that The Machine was monitoring the security cameras but if he wanted to make himself useful he could keep an eye on Cole’s condition for the night. Root lost track of Shaw while she settled their guest in secure accommodations until she could cut him loose in the morning.

 

After a brief search, she found Shaw in the vet’s private office. She was sitting on the desk in the dark. She looked up as Root stepped in to the room. “Don’t turn on the light, got a headache.”

 

“Light sensitive,” Root frowned. “Concussion?” She didn’t recall Shaw getting hit on the head. The Machine hadn’t informed her of any possible head injuries either.

 

“Hangover from that shit you hit me with,” Shaw grumbled.

 

“Oops.” Root supposed that could be one of the sedative she had used on Shaw’s side effects. Beggars couldn’t be choosers when robbing a black-market pharmacy. She closed the door behind her. The room dimmed. The light from the street kept the room dark but Root could still see clearly enough.

 

“Where’s our donor buddy?”

 

“I gave him a candy bar from the receptionist’s stash and locked him in the storage closet.”

 

Shaw perked up. “There’s candy bars?”

 

Root grinned and pulled a snickers bar out of her pocket. She tossed the treat to Shaw who caught it with one hand. She ripped the package open with her teeth and took a big bite. “So what’s the plan now?” She asked around a mouthful of chocolate and nougat.

 

“I procure better transportation in the morning and we get out of town,” Root replied. She stepped closer to the desk. “We can give you and Cole new lives. Safe ones.”

 

“I’m not done with my current one thanks.”

 

“Sameen, the ISA won’t let you walk away from this.” If they considered her dangerous now, things would reach a whole other level once the higher ups realized their hit squads had all been taken out.

 

“You think I don’t know that?” She took another angry bite.

 

“So what? You’re just going to wait for them to find you?” Root knew by reputation that the ISA was exceedingly good at finding people. Maybe The Machine could do something to keep them off Shaw’s trail if the other woman insisted on being obstinate.

 

“Thought I’d take the fight to them actually.”

 

There was only so much she could do however, if Shaw insisted on walking into the lion’s den. “You can’t win this one.” The Machine relayed the odds through Root’s earpiece. They were less than encouraging.

 

“And they can’t just get away with trying to erase Cole. I don’t believe in much, but I believe in loyalty.” She crumpled the candy wrapper in her fist. “There are consequences when people think they can forego it.”

 

“And if you’re successful, then what? You’re just going to run until someone catches you?”

 

Shaw narrowed her eyes at her, “You’re one to talk.”

 

“But we’re not talking about me.”

 

“How about we stop talking all together,” Shaw huffed, hopping down from the desk. She moved to step past, but Root didn’t move out of the way. “Move.”

 

“Make me.”

 

Shaw growled and the next thing either of them knew she had Root pinned against the bookshelves that lined the wall. Her hand was at her throat. She wasn’t squeezing, just keeping it there to hold her in place. Root licked her lips. “Now this is a conversation I can really get into.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes and stepped back. Root surged forward and brought their lips together before she could get very far. Shaw froze for a heartbeat before pushing back with as much fervor. Root’s head hit the bookshelf behind her. She gasped and Shaw took it as an invitation to add a little tongue to the mix. Not that Root was going to complain about that.

 

When they separated, far too soon for Root’s liking, she panted, “Are you going to punch me again if I tell you I’ve been waiting to do that since I was sixteen?”

 

“No,” Shaw breathed. “I’m pretty sure that is the lamest thing you’ve ever said to me though. All those years of mental buildup for that?”

 

“You didn’t like it?” Root stuck her lower lip out in a pronounced pout. She started to pull away.

 

Shaw pulled her back in by the lapels. “Don’t be stupid,” She snapped and then took Root’s lower lip between her teeth.

 

Root moaned at the slight sting. She knew any encounter with Sameen would be electric. And once again she was blowing any expectations out of the water. Not to be outdone Root brought one hand to the back of Shaw’s neck and the other slid down to her ass. She used both to pull the shorter woman’s body into full contact with her own.

 

As they continued exchanging kisses and bites, Root felt Shaw’s free hand fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. She was about to move to help when Shaw stepped back. “What’s…” She twisted the fabric of Root’s shirt in each hand and with a tug ripped her shirt open. Then she pulled her hoodie and tank top up and over her head tossing them to the ground.

 

Root gasped both at the display of strength and all the new skin now on offer. Shaw smirked at her, before going back in for another kiss. Root promised herself she’d wipe that smirk from her face even if it took all night.

 


	5. The Morning After And The Nights After That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission is over, so what comes next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming along for the ride with me on this one. Hope you enjoy the end. Until next time kids!

 

Root woke up alone. She was on the couch where she had collapsed after an enthusiastic round seven. A lab coat and Shaw’s hoodie were covering her. She scanned the room. The rest of Shaw’s clothes were missing. She sat up and went to quickly get dressed. Her shirt a lost cause, she slipped the hoodie on. Thankfully, Shaw liked them baggy, and the black material hid all but the largest bloodstain. The bullet hole in the side was going to reveal a little skin though.

 

“Where is she?” Root asked as she checked the examination rooms in the back of the building. The Machine offered no reply. She quickly walked to the exam room where she had left Cole and Reese the night before.

 

Reese was standing up. A laptop was open on the counter in front of him. He was pecking at the keyboard with two fingers. She probably didn’t want to know what he was trying to do.

 

Cole, for his part, was sitting up in his makeshift bed. His color much improved from the night before. He gave Root a small smile. “Morning.”

 

“Where’s Shaw?” She asked walking over to him.

 

Reese turned to frown at her. “We thought she was with you.” The look on his face implied that he knew exactly what they had gotten up to the night before.

 

Even if she hadn’t had more pressing concerns Root wouldn’t have been embarrassed about it. Just a shame she couldn’t gloat at the moment. Root shook her head, “She was but she’s not now.”

 

“If she left, she didn’t go out the front.”

 

“Well, she’s not here.” Root grit her teeth. Damnit.

 

“She couldn’t have gotten far,” Reese surmised. “You ditched the van so she’d be on foot. There’s not much out here. We can track her down.”

 

“You don’t know Shaw,” Cole said wearily. “She’s great at disappearing.” He coughed and then grimaced in pain. “And at stealing cars.”

 

“Ms. Groves,” Finch’s voice bled into the room from the speakers of the laptop. Oh so that’s what Lurch was doing with the hunting and pecking routine. “A word please?”

 

“We’re sort of busy, Harry.”

 

“I’m aware.”

 

She rolled her eyes. If he was aware, then why was he wasting her time? “Then you know we need to find Sameen.”

 

“Ms. Shaw is missing?” He practically squawked.

 

“That’s’ why we’re busy.”

 

“I thought…” Finch trailed off. “Clearly, we have more pressing concerns. My matter can be discussed later.”

 

“What was it, Finch? We may as well discuss it now if it was important enough to warrant a phone call at six in the morning. Maybe it has something to do with Shaw.”

 

“An arson report,” Finch huffed. “You’ll forgive me for assuming Ms. Groves, but given your history with the place…”

 

“Where?” She cut him off, not in the mood for a lecture cloaked in an apology. Not even a well-intentioned one. “Where was the fire, Harry?”

 

“The Bishop Public Library.”

 

Root laughed until she was doubled over and tears were streaming from her eyes. Cole glanced between her and Reese nervously. “Is she okay?”

 

“I’m perfect,” Root wheezed. Shaw still had her own special way of apologizing for things.

 

Two weeks later they received word from Carter’s contact in Washington that one Patrick Wilson had been found dead. Sameen was nothing if not efficient. “What do you think she’ll do now?” Reese had asked a pensive Root.

 

“Whatever she wants to?” She hemmed. “She’s not beholden to the government’s whims anymore.” They had trained her to be a ghost. Shaw could disappear completely if she wanted now.

 

“They’re not just going to let an operative like her go. She knows too much.”

 

“Nothing kills that cat,” Root sighed. She prayed the words were true even as she said them. “She won’t be found unless she wants to be.” Shaw had already proven most adept at avoiding even Her gaze. That was causing more than a little frustration for Root.

 

“For Ms. Shaw’s sake,” Finch remarked, finally adding to the conversation. “I hope you’re right. Our task was to save them both. If only Mr. Cole survives the ordeal, it’ll be a hollow victory.”

 

“Sameen made her choice,” Root sighed. She could understand it. Wilson was too dangerous to leave in a position of power within the ISA. He had to be removed from play. She even would have helped, had Shaw asked. “People still have free will, even the numbers.”

 

“She’s a tough one Finch,” Reese added. Whether for his benefit or Root’s she wasn’t sure. She appreciated the support either way.

 

“It’s fascinating,” Finch noted, apparently needing to move away from the topic of Shaw’s mortality. “The Machine supplied the ISA with a riddle of a number knowing exactly which team would be assigned to it, just before the kill order was issued, in order to give us enough time to assist Mr. Cole and Ms. Shaw before Wilson’s men could carry it out.”

 

“You taught her to play the long game, Harry.”

 

“I never taught The Machine this level of subterfuge.” He sounded concerned.

 

“Wherever it came from I’m grateful,” Root shrugged. Sameen was still out there somewhere; she was sure of it. She’d never not be thankful to The Machine for that.

 

Life went on. A few months passed. The numbers kept coming. Root’s role took on a new tenor as The Machine began funneling more relevant numbers away from the government and into her hands. “Did the Big Lug rearrange the arsenal while I was away?” She asked one evening as she stopped by the library between errands.

 

“Mr. Reese did move a few items to make room for the additional munitions he and Detective Carter alleviated from some gang members in New Jersey.” Finch swiveled his chair around so he could see Root partially leaning in to the storage locker Mr. Reese had wedged in between two of the larger bookshelves. “What are you looking for?”

 

“Infrared scope.” She’d need it on Tuesday, she was told.

 

“I believe he moved the optics downstairs to the shelves near your workroom.” He vaguely remembered Mr. Reese carrying a large crate to the stairs. “He said something about the collection up here being for grab and go situations.”

 

Root popped out of the storage locker and ambled back over to his work area. She began to rifle around in the large duffle bag she had dropped by Bear’s bed in her haste to greet him upon her return. “Oh well, I need to switch out some of these clothes anyway. Do you think you can convince Lurch to drop off my dry cleaning while I’m out?”

 

“Going out again already?” Finch asked when she stood up with a stack of haphazardly folded clothes in her arms. “You’ve been back barely two hours.”

 

“Just doing a little packing for the morning,” Root replied as she placed the pile of clothes on one of the worktables. “She has a few errands for me to run overseas.”

 

“You can’t keep going at this pace. You need to rest.”

 

She blinked at him. “That’s what the layover here tonight is for.” She’d prefer an actual bed to the cot in her workroom but beggars couldn’t be choosers when the world needed saving. At least the cot was familiar.

 

“How many of these errands have you been on since the mission in Texas?”

 

“If you can fire a grenade launcher while simultaneously hanging from a cliff then by all means, Harry take this one. I’m due a pedicure.” She sat down on the corner of his desk.

 

He squinted at her in annoyance both for the flippant reply and for the abuse of his furniture, “There’s no need to be facetious, Ms. Groves.”

 

“Oh the offer is genuine.” She wiggled her left foot at him though a pair of wooly socks hid her toes from view. She’d kicked her boots off after greeting Bear. He currently had dragged the left one of into the stacks, most likely never to be seen again. “I’m in a frightful state.”

 

“I am merely concerned for your wellbeing in light of your expanded role with taking on relevant numbers.”

 

“Are you doubting my skills?” She crossed her arms over her chest, “That doesn’t typically end well for you…”

 

He cut her off, “There is a reason the government created an entire organization to deal with such threats.”

 

“It’s not like I’m taking on every relevant number that comes up,” Root replied. “She simply can’t trust the ISA with a few sensitive cases until they clean house.” Sure Wilson was gone, but even if the kill order was his idea, someone higher up on the food chain had approved it. Root couldn’t blame Her for being wary.

 

He idly shifted a stack of papers from one pile to another. He was getting behind on his filing. “I understand The Machine’s trepidation, but you are only one person.”

 

“Who else do you suggest handle things?”

 

“Perhaps you could take Mr. Reese with you on any missions where explosives and spelunking are involved.”

 

“I said hanging from a cliff not going in a cave.” Finch narrowed his eyes. Root threw up her hands, here she thought he appreciated accuracy. “I can’t take your helper monkey with me all the time, Harold. You need him for the irrelevant numbers.”

 

“I have been contemplating bringing Detective Carter completely into the fold for some time now. Perhaps even Detective Fusco could pick up more of the slack. They’ve both proven to be trustworthy.”

 

“Sharing secrets? You?”

 

“I am capable of it,” He huffed in offense.

 

“If you want to initiate Carter and the Shaggy Detective fully into the team I’m all for it. John could use the downtime,” Root replied. “It doesn’t alter my responsibilities.”

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. Root smiled softly, the fact that he was genuinely concerned was moving. “There must be some way to lighten your burden.”

 

“How far we’ve come,” Root smiled wider at him. She leaned around the equipment so that she could look him in the eyes. “Your concern is touching, truly. But she chose me for this. I am happy to do as she asks for as long as I’m able.”

 

“How long you’re able could be extended a great deal if you allowed us to help you.”

 

“She’ll give me everything I need, Harry. Trust her. You’ll be far happier that way.”

 

Two weeks and three missions later, Root wouldn’t say her trust was misplaced but she also wouldn’t call having a shotgun pointed at her face a happy outcome. Her captor and his two friends kept their weapons, the aforementioned shotgun and a couple pistols, pointed at her as she knelt on the ground. It was admittedly, a bit of a pickle.

 

Sadly, Root wasn’t going to be able to recommend Belgrade in the fall. The city was beautiful, lots of interesting architecture. The people were warm and friendly. By contrast the weather was a bit cooler than she’d like but that was neither here nor there. No the issue wasn’t so much with the city itself as it was with the class of criminal it contained.

 

Namely the sort that would try to reverse engineer some questionably acquired Russian ballistics hardware and then try to auction the plans off to the highest bidder. She’d been the highest bidder of course but then the idiots had tried to renege on handing over the product. So tacky. So unprofessional. So she had done what any reasonable person would have, she blew up the warehouse they had been operating out of.

 

Her goal had been keeping those plans out of the wrong hands after all.

 

Part one of her amended plan had been successful. Well, mostly successful. They may have miscalculated the blast radius a teeny bit. The dynamite she had used had been a tad older than the lot number implied and The Machine had accounted for. Thanks to apparently shoddy record keeping, it detonated far sooner than projected, knocking the building and a fleeing Root for a wallop. Thus allowing for her current predicament. Next time she brought her own explosives, she didn’t care if she was in a rush to get through customs, the extra ten minutes was worth it.

 

So the, in her opinion, terrible yet extremely lucky criminals had managed to capture her, which put quite a damper on her trip. The leader pumped the shotgun in his hands. Sadly, it appeared that Root’s number might indeed be up. The reflection of the burning building on the river made for a dramatic backdrop at least.

 

Perhaps Harry had been right about the fact that she needed actual, human, backup on occasion. She idly wondered how The Machine would break the news to him.  Would she tell him flat out? Send him a copy of a news clipping about a Jane Doe, or whatever the Serbian equivalent of the term was, that washed up in the river? Or would she allow him to come to his own conclusions when Root never returned?

 

She wasn’t much of a believer, but she sort of hoped she got to come back and haunt the library. Move Harry’s books around. Trip Lurch whenever he lumbered by in search of a beanstalk. Play spooky fetch with Bear. She really didn’t know if such thoughts were a last minute comfort or a bit of panic. Either way, indulging in them much longer simply would not do. Straightening her spine, Root glared up at her captor as he asked her one last time where his money was. “Tell Harry it was a fun ride.”

 

“What?” He grumbled in heavily accented English.

 

“I wasn’t talking to you,” She sneered.

 

He waved for his men to take a step back as he brought the shotgun around. “A pity.”

 

Before she could reply he went down as a bullet slammed into his skull. The other two quickly followed from similar shots. Root glanced around wildly. Given the most logical trajectory, the shots had to come from a rooftop nearby. But she couldn’t see the shooter. The Machine wasn’t giving her any information either, oddly enough. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, she quickly scooped up one of their dropped weapons and sprinted for cover.

 

Root ducked behind a stack of crates to get her bearings. The handgun she’d picked up had a full magazine. Her car was on the other side of the docks. She could run for it, but there was a great deal of open terrain between here and there. The bullets either stopped because the three men were the targets or because the rifle needed to be reloaded. If she could only figure out if her sniper was friend or foe before risking a run.

 

There was a beep and then a most unexpected voice came through her earpiece with the answer. “You know, you kind of suck at this vigilante thing. From that little show you put on in Bishop, I was expecting more from you than getting caught by the Three Serbian Stooges.”

 

“Sameen?” She choked.

 

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

 

A million questions began to rattle around her brain. “How is this possible?” Was the first to form into a coherent sentence.

 

“Wasn’t the point of giving me your number for me to call you sometime?”

 

“We both know this isn’t the number I gave you.” Even if it had been, it wouldn’t account for Sameen showing up in Belgrade of all places.

 

“Root,” She could almost hear the eye roll, “Are you really going to argue semantics when I just saved your ass?”

 

“I would never dream of sounding ungrateful for that, but why are you here?”

 

“Got a new job offer. Basically what I was doing before with the added responsibility to keep an annoying nerd from getting shot full of holes.” She took a breath, “Okay when I think about it, literally it’s the same job except you smell better than Cole.”

 

“Really?” Root’s voice sounded skeptical to her own ears. But honestly the prospect of working numbers with Sameen was far too good to be true.

 

“Is it so hard to believe?” Shaw asked. “I liked my job. I was good at it. Your buddy Skynet offered better pay than government work, doesn’t want me dead, and I hear you guys have a dog.”

 

Root laughed. Shaw had always loved animals. Certainly more than people. “His name is Bear.”

 

“See this arrangement is way better for me already.”

 

Root could hear what sounded like rushing wind through the comm. “Where are you?”

 

“Check your ten o’clock. Halfway down the fire escape.”

 

Root slowly leaned around the crates. Sure enough a familiar black clad figure was climbing down the fire escape on the side of the frozen food plant. A large sniper rifle was strapped to her back. Before she realized she was even moving Root had started sprinting in that direction.

 

By the time she reached the building, Shaw’s boots hit the concrete. “Root,” She nodded leaning against the wall just in front of her.

 

She sucked in a breath. Sameen looked adorable in her little beanie. There was a slight pink tinge to her cheeks from the wind. And she was there for her. Prettiest sight Root had ever seen. “Hi,” She breathed.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Don’t make it weird.”

 

Root took a deep breath to steady herself. “Okay,” She tilted her head to the side, “Does my getting turned on by the fact that you took out those guys with that enormous gun of yours make it weird?”

 

“No,” Shaw slightly grinned. “That was pretty hot.”

 

“Exceedingly.” Root held up a finger, “Though, little tip, She doesn’t generally approve when we kill them, Sweetie.” Shaw would have to get used to playing by slightly different rules, but if Root could do it anyone could.

 

“Fine,” Shaw harrumphed, “I’ll avoid head shots when idiots avoid pointing shotguns at your head.”

 

Wasn’t that just the sweetest thing? “You going all an eye for an eye positively makes me quiver.”

 

“Do you ever stop?”

 

Root bit her lip, “Do you really want me to?”

 

Shaw looked like she was actually considering it. “I guess not today.” She shrugged, “Only because since the job’s done, things might get boring otherwise.”

 

Root leaned into her personal space, propping one arm on the wall beside Shaw’s head. “We can’t have that.”

 

“I hate being bored.”

 

“Oh I remember.” Root hooked her fingers under the strap of the gun resting across Shaw’s chest and tugged her forward. “I’m sure I can come up with some way to entertain you. By my count I do have two dates left.”

 

Shaw looked away, “You know this is probably a bad idea.”

 

Root let go of the harness to reach up and cup her cheek with her free hand. She ran her thumb lightly across Shaw’s jaw. “Haven’t you figured out by now that all my best ideas are bad ones, Sameen?”

 

She closed her eyes. “You are such a nerd.” But when she looked at Root again there was a small smile on her lips. “Damn good thing you’re hot and good with a gun.”

 

“Among other things,” Root drawled. She leaned in to finally close the distance between them when a beep sounded in her ear. “There you are!” Shaw’s eyes narrowed just tiniest bit in confusion. Root tapped on her temple. “Hold that thought, Sweetie. She needs to give me instructions.”

 

“Is robotic cock blocking going to be a normal occurrence?” Shaw grumbled. “Because if so Skynet is going to need to up my ammo budget.”

 

“For something to be a normal occurrence you’d probably have to break your three date rule.” Root smiled brightly, “I’m touched.” And so Shaw would be once The Machine gave them some down time. Root was looking forward to that.

 

“Shut up and find out what your robot overlord wants us to do before I shoot you, Nerd.”

 

“I do so adore your idea of foreplay,” She quipped before stepping back. She made sure to move well out of punching range. Just to be safe. Root tilted her head to the side as The Machine outlined what she needed the pair of them to do next. Her smile widened as the details were laid out. Wouldn’t that be a delightful second date? Who knew God was a romantic?  

 

“Will do,” She replied when The Machine finished explaining.

 

Shaw pursed her lips, “So am I going to get to shoot someone else today or what?”

 

“How do you feel about hopping a flight to Miami?”

 

“I could use some fun in the sun.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder at the huge gun still strapped to her back. “Think Lufthansa will make me check this?”

 

“I think you can bring whatever you want,” Root replied with a saucy grin. “We’re going to steal a jet.”

 

Shaw’s face remained passive but there was a distinct glint in her eyes, “That does sound fun.”

 

Root looped her arm through Shaw’s. She counted it a great personal victory that the shorter woman didn’t pull away. The prospect of grand larceny apparently put her in a giving mood. “Oh you and me,” Root beamed, “We’re going to have so much fun together.”

 


End file.
